Chapter 2: Caged

.o.o.o.

The next time Damian woke up, he could move…with the slight detriment of being connected to the bed with a ten foot chain and the bed now being bolted down.

Damn it. Even brainwashed Dick could be meticulous at random times... "So…we never addressed what you want from me…"

"I want you to stay," Dick said bluntly from where he was leaning in the corner.

"Stay…and?" Damian asked. He could probably slip those chains, but then Dick might go back on his word and…no. Stay put for now.

"And…make sense," Dick decided, sitting down on the end of the bed and lightly running a hand down Damian's neck to rest on his shoulder.

Damian nodded slowly. That wasn't good. Dick seemed to equate "making sense" with "not telling me I'm not what I am right now" which was frankly all Damian wanted to do, every day at all hours until something managed to click.

"What if…I'm trying to make sense, but I accidentally don't?" Loophole, please be a loophole...

"I'll warn you," Dick said, his grip on Damian's shoulder becoming painfully tight. "I know little bird's silly and can't help himself, so I'll help you instead!"

Damian gulped. Great. "Did you…think about the other thing I said?"

"I'm not sure why Batman wouldn't want you as Robin," Dick said blithely.

Something in Damian broke. "No, no, no, I was talking to you when I said it!"

"Because you told it to me."

"No, when I first said it!" Damian yelled as those stupid tears started up again. "When I first asked that I was asking you, Grayson!"

Dick had been watching the breakdown almost quizzically until that final word, his last name. "You…normally…call me…that…"

Damian tried to become more coherent as fast as he could, "Y-y-yes! I usually use last names on people, remember that?"

"But you've been calling me Dick now," Dick noted.

"S-so? I'd missed you," Damian muttered.

"…How? Did they steal you from the Court or-"

"Fuck the court!" Damian screamed. "The Court is dead! Dead, dead, dead! We killed them!" Okay, that was metaphorical, they'd really shut them down and taken them out but frankly Damian was in the mood for more graphic terms after what they had done to his brother. "Dead and buried! Fucking dead!"

"The Court never dies," Dick said seriously. Damian squeaked as he was pinned down. "Little bird needs to stop lying now."

"That's my warning?" Damian questioned. At the nodded reply he took a deep breath, "I'm sorry for confusing you. But that is the truth. The Court is gone."

He hissed as a claw-gloved finger split his cheek open, right by his left ear.

"You didn't listen," Dick said sternly.

"S-sorry," Damian said, too scared of those dead eyes to do anything else. He didn't move even as Dick got up and left in a huff, too stunned at feeling the blood lazily dripping down his cheek.

.o.o.o.

Damian didn't know how long he'd been there. Surely it had been long enough for Father and Drake to find them…but then, due to their agreement, Dick didn't need to keep getting paralytics anymore, so that clue might not hold any weight if they had been looking at it.

He'd fallen asleep again. There was a hunk of gauze taped to his cheek that hadn't been there before and a bottle of water and a sandwich—likely stolen from a convenience store—on the floor by the bed.

So. Dick was out. Maybe now he could plan…

But he didn't know how long he'd been here, in an enclosed little room with only a dim ceiling light and and a window too well boarded to see light through. He didn't know if it was night or day, and even though logically he felt it should have been more than four days or so it felt both longer and shorter at the same time, messing with his perception.

Damian chewed the sandwich sulkily. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe Dick really was gone. Maybe he should leave and just warn the family about the threat Dick now posed instead of stay here and…

No. He couldn't and he knew it. He couldn't leave Dick when there was even a chance of saving him. Maybe this was how Dick and Father felt about Todd…

.o.o.o.

Damian woke up again. It was just hard to stay awake in the given circumstances. The stress coupled with lack of ability to move much and poor nutrition…

He frankly had no wish to leave because he wanted to try and save Dick first, even if more and more of his brain was insisting that it was a lost cause. His sense of time was shot, meaning he had no way to gauge how long he'd been here and thus how long he'd been affecting Dick compared to the couple of weeks the Court likely had him.

He didn't even know what they'd done. Being a Talon was supposedly hereditary, but frankly Damian would never have believed Dick capable of these things if he hadn't seen them and knew Dick never would have done them if in his right mind.

Dick wouldn't have hurt him if he was in his right mind. Never.

So what could they have done to him? Their family were all well trained in resisting torture, especially mental torture…drugs? Unlikely given Dick's frequent adolescent exposure to the Joker, the Scarecrow, and so on.

Maybe it had something to do with the weird element in Talons' blood? But Dick didn't look like the active Talons did. Maybe it had been inactive too long and didn't work right? But then why was Dick so different? Damn he was so different…

The door opened and Dick wandered in.

"Richard," Damian said.

"Little bird," Dick replied. "What do you know about the red man?"

"Red man?" Damian asked. That could be anyone. Drake. Cavalier if he was wearing the costume again. Red Tornado in town for help with JLA business. Todd. Probably Todd. "Could you be more specific?"

"No bat," Dick said, gesturing to his chest. "Coat. Red, hard face."

Todd then.

Damian nodded, "He's dangerous. But you and father always wanted to bring him ho—ow, ow, I'm sorry!"

Dick released his arm. "You lie too easily little bird."

"I'm sorry," Damian muttered. "But you didn't warn me…I just…"

"Should I kill him then?" Dick mused.

Damian choked. "N-no!" No, Dick would never forgive himself and Damian could never forgive himself for letting him…

"Then what?" Dick asked.

"You said you wouldn't hurt the bats. He's a bat," Damian said. "He's with them. You hurt him, I leave."

"He's not a bat," Dick said skeptically.

"He is," Damian said. "So you can't or we won't have our deal!"

Dick's fists clenched and he loomed over Damian. "If he's a threat, then he has to die!"

"No, you just have to avoid him!" Damian said. "You just have to avoid all of them!"

Dick hissed and sat on the edge of the bed, "That's not what the Court-"

"What if the Court is hiding for now?" Damian asked. "It's not like you've heard from them lately! Maybe they want you to lay low too!"

Dick looked conflicted. Damian decided to push that conflict further. He grabbed his brother's shoulder, "Please, Richard? For me?"

Dick softened. Sharp nails ran though Damian's hair. "All right, little bird. We do it your way, for now."

.o.o.o.

If Jason was close, the family would likely be closer. Jason was a lot of things, but he wasn't a better detective than Father or Drake or Oracle. If Jason was really poking around here, and not just beating up drug dealers, then someone had noticed something.

Of course, given that obsession ran and the family and Damian had confirmed Dick was alive, they could have just been combing the whole damn city, too. There was always that.

Dick stormed in, his hands once again covered in blood.

Damian swallowed, "So, who was-?"

"Gang."

"Why would you be going after gang members?" Damian asked. That made no sense-

"Some of then shot at the red man." Dick's face contorted in a snarl. "I can't see you get shot, I can't see him get shot—why can't I stand seeing you both shot?"

Damian swallowed. If Dick had some form of memory about Damian getting shot by Jason…then what did he remember about Jason's death? About Jason's corpse?

Did that mean Dick was remembering things? "Are you all right?"

"My head.." Dick hissed. "That's not something that happened…he's not that kid…"

"A bloodied kid in a coffin?" Damian asked quietly.

Dick stared at him, "You've seen it too?"

Damian nodded. He'd seen the images, back when he was still with his mother and researching his father. "His name is Jason, Dick. He's the red man."

Dick stood there until a loud crack echoed in the building.

"What was that?" damian asked.

"Someone breaking in. Stay here," Dick said darkly.

"I can help!" Damian said. There was no way in hell he was letting his brother just run off to deal with…whatever it was alone!"

"Stay here," Dick repeated, shutting Damian in.

Damian rolled his eyes and started picking at the lock on the chain. Like hell he was staying here.

The boards over the window fell away. "-so anyway, I'll try and get them form behind from up here, all right, and then we'll-"

"Drake?" Damian asked.

"Oh my…oh my god, Damian!" Drake cried. "Guys, Damian's here, and that means-"

A loud bellow of "NIGHTWING?" came from a lower level.

"What are you doing?" Damian demanded as Drake quickly cut the chain off him.

"Chasing a gang that looked like they were attacking this place," Drake said. "What are you doing?"

"…Staying with Grayson," Damian said. "Oh no, the gang member he killed-"

"Wait, Dick killed?" Drake asked.

"The court did something to him, he's not himself," Damian said. "He doesn't remember you, he barely remembers anything about me, and-"

Jason fell through the door, wrestling with a gang member. Dick pounced after the both of them, the sharp claws cutting through the man's throat.

"Damn it, Nightwing, the hell are you doing?" Jason yelled before Dick threw him into a wall.

Drake instinctively moved between Damian and Dick, not seeing just how bad of an idea that was.

"Stay. Away. From. Him," Dick hissed.

"You don't know what you're doing," Drake said shakily. "Nightwing, listen to me, please-"

"Red Robin, get away," Jason said, struggling to his feet. "He killed those gang members. He's dangerous. Get the kid and get out!"

"You won't take him!" Dick snapped, his fingers getting around Drake's neck.

"NO!" Damian screamed, "No, Dick, please!"

Dick paused.

"It's Tim! And Jason!" Damian argued, frankly glad Dick had slaughtered the present gang member just so he could say that outright. "Y-you have to remember Tim and Jason! You have to!"

Dick threw Tim aside, prowling over to Damian as Tim hit the floor hard. "No. I. Don't."

Damian heard Tim's breath catch and Jason sigh in frustration. So it wouldn't work then. Was Dick gone?

"Do you remember Bruce?"

Dick snarled, keeping himself between Damian and the door where Batgirl had appeared. Shaking, Stephanie held her head high, looked Dick in the eyes, and offered a book.

Damian recognized it—it was one of Alfred's scrapbooks. "Take it…Dick, I'll stay, I promise, they promise not to take me, but please, please look at that book!"

At first Dick didn't move, but Damian saw his lips silently ask "Bruce?" with some sort of recognition. He took the book before sitting next to Damian.

The proximity meant that Damian could see the growing recognition in his eyes, hear the harsh panting as Dick realized something was wrong if he could and couldn't remember at the same time while paging through a book of his earliest days at the manor.

"Dick…I know it's usually you saying this to me," Jason said, lowering his knife. "But…please come home?"

Damian watched as Dick silently shut the book and closed his eyes, tears leaking out anyway. "What…happened…to me?" he asked.

"Come home and we'll figure it out," Tim offered, smiling slightly.

Dick frowned and rubbed at his head, before hissing in pain.

"Dick!" Damian and Jason shouted as their oldest brother slumped over, unconscious. Tim raced over, checking vitals hurriedly while Stephanie gathered Damian in the tight hug. Damian let her until she moved to pull him away.

"No! No, let me stay with him, please!" Damian yelled, kicking and shoving only for Jason to snatch him away from Stephanie and hold him in a much more restraining fashion.

"Kid, we need to get Dick to a hospital, and you know it!" Jason barked sternly. "Same for you! Calm the hell down!"

Something about how absolutely not soothing that was helped. "Please let him be okay."

Jason petted Damian's hair stiffly as Stephanie and Tim started to maneuver Dick out to the car. "Could say the same for you. Come on, it's over."

They both knew that was a lie. There was still a long ways to go, but that was all up to Dick.

.o.o.o.

A/N: I felt Jason being the one to say "come home" was important. One more chapter to go!