A/N: Woo hoo another chapter! I'm trying to be faster about these updates but I gotta say, it's hard sometimes with life getting in the way! (Plus, I just adopted a puppy so you know, that's kinda distracting at times). Anywaaaay, here's yet another installment in this humble little story of mine.

DISCLAIMER: I still don't own them unfortunately…

Bruce didn't like this situation. Not even a little. While his kid was in the hands of a mad man and an unknown enemy he was supposed to just sit on his hands and let the authorities "do their jobs". If Dick didn't go missing as Dick in broad daylight he could actually do something to find him. He could be Batman, work the case and track his son down with the rest of the heroes. But no, he was currently sitting in his living room with a small army of officers scattered throughout his home. There was a low hum of activity: voices, computers, phones ringing. It was driving him mad.

"Master Bruce, the commissioner would like a word with you," Alfred's voice is soft in his ear as the old butler leans over him to quietly deliver the message.

Bruce sighs and stands, brushing a hand over his clothes and trying not to look like he's going to murder the next person who looks at him wrong. The commissioner is across the room, leaning over one of the many techs in the room and pointing to something on the computer screen. Bruce can only hope they've found some sort of lead. The League was notified to meet at the Cave twenty minutes ago and while he was preparing to leave the police showed up at his front door. They said they were there to help bring his boy home. In his opinion, they were making it harder to bring Dick back.

"Commissioner, Alfred said you wanted to speak with me?" Bruce did his best to keep his voice worried and slightly panicky, exactly what would be expected of a father who's child was taken. It wasn't all that hard, he was feeling worried and panicked he just didn't like showing it.

Jim Gordon stands straight and motions to the small parlor off the main den. Bruce holds back an annoyed huff and moves into the room. Jim shuts the door and turns to Bruce, "I know this is hard Bruce, but I need to ask you a few quick questions."

Bruce settles into an armchair, raking a hand through his hair and looking properly distressed. "Of course, Jim. Anything you need to know."

Jim sits in the chair across from him and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together loosely, "I want to start by saying I'm sorry this happened to you. I don't what it's like to have your child go missing like this but if it was Barbara I don't know what I would do. The GCPD is going to do everything we can to bring your boy home."

"Thank you, Jim. I appreciate it."

"Of course. Now, I know in your position you make a lot of enemies but is there anyone in particular you can think of who would want to hurt Dick like this? Someone who could rope the Joker into helping?"

In his head, Batman scoffs, who wouldn't want to hurt them? But on the outside Bruce sighs and shakes his head, "No, not that I can think of. I mean, yes, I have a lot of enemies. But none of them would hire someone like the Joker to do their dirty work. At least, none of the ones I know of. There could be hundreds of people who don't like me and want to hurt me in any way possible. I don't know every single enemy I have."

That was a lie. Batman's and Bruce's enemies were all stored in his head. Every single person who would hurt either him or Dick had a spot in his memory. Plenty of the more criminal ones wouldn't hesitate to hire Joker to help them out but those were Batman and Robin's enemies, they didn't care about Bruce and Dick. Of course, now someone knew the two were one in the same so there really was no telling exactly which pool of enemies he should be looking at, which was why Batgirl was looking into all of them with the help of the Team.

Shortly after the message went out for the heroes to gather the Team was blowing up his communicator. They were already at the Cave, ready to help however they could. So he put them all to work. He didn't tell them exactly what was happening yet, just that Robin was in danger and needed their help. He did not want to explain everything twice so he was going to wait for everyone to be in one place. Explaining it once was going to be hard enough. If he thought he could handle this on his own he would and wouldn't tell anyone what was going on, Gotham was his problem after all. But with the whole League in jeopardy he didn't think they would take too kindly to being left out of the loop. Besides, he could use a little back up this time around.

Jim is looking at him expectantly and he realizes he must have missed a question being asked. Under normal circumstances that would worry him but these are far from normal circumstances, "I'm sorry Jim, did you ask me something? I'm a little frazzled at the moment, you understand."

Jim smiles sympathetically, "I asked if you received any demands before we arrived. Kidnappers usually have a reason for taking children. Have they told you what they wanted yet?"

Bruce shakes his head and lets some of his true worry show now, "No, I haven't heard a thing yet from anyone."

Jim frowns, "That's strange but maybe they're still figuring it out. They probably didn't expect to even get away with him in the first place. Gotham Academy is a very secure school, it takes quite a bit of skill for someone to just kidnap a student from there."

Bruce nods. He thought that too. Why would someone kidnap Richard Grayson, the son of Bruce Wayne, in the middle of the day with hundreds of witnesses? Even if they knew he was Robin there were better ways to go about grabbing him. This one seemed to be purposefully public. His inner voice was telling him it was probably because he would be stuck playing worried parent, unable to put on his cowl and beat some thugs until he figured out where Dick was being held. Damn it all.

"Jim, do you think they're going to kill him? There's been no demands. Maybe they don't want anything from me, maybe they just want to kill him. I have enough money, losing a few million or even a couple billion wouldn't hurt me at all. But losing Dick, that would destroy me," he wasn't lying. If Richard died he didn't know what he would do. Kill whoever did it maybe. Tear this city apart finding who ordered it definitely. Batman wouldn't rest, not even for a second.

Jim reaches out and places his hand on Bruce's shoulder, squeezing gently, "We'll find him, Bruce. I promise."

Bruce nods, flashing a wavering smile before looking away, "I hope so."

Jim nods and gives Bruce's shoulder one more squeeze before leaving the room. Bruce leans back in his chair and lets himself truly worry for a minute away from prying eyes. He doesn't like looking weak in front of people so it's in those brief moments, when no one is looking at Bruce Wayne, he lets the fear come out. And something in him is absolutely terrified. He doesn't know if its his fatherly side or his Batman side but one of them is so scared he might be sick.

He's getting ready to go back into the den when his phone goes off in his pocket. He pauses and pulls it out. A strange number is requesting a video chat with him. He sits back down and answers, already knowing this is whoever took Dick. The screen flashes to life and there's Dick. He's unconscious, his face slack and his breathing steady. Dick never sits that still unless he's been knocked out with either drugs or a very strong blow to the head. Judging by the lack of visible injuries Bruce is willing to bet on drugs. His hands aren't bound in any way and there are no marks anywhere on his body. Bruce exhales slightly, no wounds is a good thing. He doesn't know how long Dick will remain untouched but for now, he's okay. There's a manacle wrapped around his small ankle and a chain attached to it, hooked into the floor. The room around him is dark and Bruce can't make anything out. Smart. Without a good look at the room he can't pinpoint where Dick is being held. Whoever took him did their homework.

The video flashes and now there's a man looking out at him. A man with hair and eyes the color of snow, one he doesn't recognize. The man smiles but Bruce can tell there's no real emotion behind it, "Hello, Bruce. Or should I call you Batman? You are one in the same after all. I'm sure you're wondering why I took your young charge and what I plan to do next. I'm willing to tell you the why but we'll leave the what for later. Can you handle that, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce has to swallow his anger and keep Batman at bay for now, "Fine. Why did you take my son?"

"Because you destroyed my life. I find it only fair I destroy yours."

Bruce frowns, "How did I destroy your life? I don't even know you."

The man looks angry for a split second before smoothing his features, "You do know me, you just don't remember me. I guess when you're a billionaire it's easy to forget the people beneath you."

"Who are you?!" Batman is coming out now, his anger taking over.

The man smiles slowly, "You can simply call me the Keeper for the moment. I want you to try and figure out who I really am. You are the world's greatest detective correct? It should be a simple thing for you. I will give you a clue though, since I'm feeling gracious at the moment: I did not always look like this, I used to look like a normal person until a tragic accident. If you're as good a detective as they say you should have no trouble figuring out my identity from that."

"Fine, I'll play your little game but first I want to know Dick is still alive."

"I had a feeling you would ask for that which is why I put together a little video for you to watch. I never knew the Joker could be so…cruel with his games. It was very eye-opening."

Bruce's blood ran cold. Dick being left in Joker's hands for any amount of time was deadly and now the lunatic knew Dick was Robin which would only make him try a little harder to make Dick scream. It was his favorite game: make the birdie sing. He has to fight not to yell at the Keeper, demand he give his son back before things become painful for him, "He better be alive still."

"Oh he is. For now. He will remain that way so long as you cooperate and play the distraught father who can't do anything. I still have things I need to do before we're done."

With those words the screen goes black. Bruce waits impatiently for the screen to click back to life and when it does he instantly regrets wishing for this. Joker is approaching his son like a predator. Dick who is chained to a floor with hardly anywhere to go. He watches as Dick stands and starts backing away, trying to avoid the clown as long as possible. He watches as the chain grows taut and wants to scream at Dick to stop moving before he's on the ground. Too late. He falls in a heap of limbs and Joker immediately starts laughing. Bruce wants to beat him right then. He's protective of Dick and it comes out full force during these kinds of situations. No one hurts his child.

He forces himself to keep watching. Dick manages to get the upper hand for a moment and while he isn't pleased with the obvious rage his son is displaying he can't blame him. Dick's fists are flying, slamming into Joker's face over and over again. The Joker starts laughing at some point which only serves to make Dick angrier. He sees Joker's hand inching toward the chain and he holds his breath, praying Dick notices what's happening in time. He doesn't though and Joker yanks on the chain sending Dick falling backward. His head smacks the floor and Bruce can hear it over the audio of the video. He winces, that's going to leave a mark.

Joker is on top of Dick a moment later and is laying into him, his fists connecting solidly every single time. Blood starts gushing out of his nose and Bruce's anger burns hot in his veins. He wishes he could jump into the video and rip Joker off his son. But he's forced to watch as the blows keep raining down. Finally Joker grows tired of his game and gets off Dick, moving toward a black bag on the floor almost out of the camera's view. Dick doesn't move for a moment, his breathing slightly heavy as he collects himself. Bruce can see flecks of blood shooting from his mouth every time he takes a breath in.

Joker's bent over the bag for a moment, and finally Dick sits up, swaying slightly. There's a glint as Joker pulls his hand from the bag and Bruce already knows Joker has a knife. Always the knife first. Every single time. The knife and then the crowbar. He knows the Joker's routine almost as well as Dick does. He's had to patch the boy up enough times and listen to Dick go through it all with him over and over again. He knows Joker's methods. Just like he knows exactly what he's going to say before he even says it, "I've always wanted to carve this bird."

And then the knife is being pressed to Dick's arm. The boy does well, not flinching even when the blade is pushed in harder and blood pools. He's proud of him in that moment. Dick's strong, he tells himself. He keeps telling himself that as Joker jerks the knife down, creating a deep wound. Blood is pouring freely from it now and Bruce can see Dick's pain clear on his face. Still, he remains silent. And then Joker moves to his other arm. The knife is deeper this time as Joker drags it slowly over flesh and Dick hisses. Bruce's hand clenches into a fist at his side, trembling with rage.

He can tell Joker is bored now though, which is a bad thing. A bored Joker is a careless Joker and he could accidentally kill Dick before he realizes what he's doing. There's two types of Joker you never want: bored and angry. Both versions of him will kill someone on accident and feel absolutely no remorse. He hopes Dick will see Joker is growing bored and keep his mouth shut. He has a tendency to mouth off at the bad guys at the most inopportune times. For instance when the crazy clown with a knife is getting tired of him. Like right now. He sighs when Dick shoots a sharp comment Joker's way. Thankfully, Joker isn't in the mood to stab Dick in the chest tonight. That's already happened once. He does not want to relive that again.

When Joker turns back toward Dick he has the crowbar in his hands. This is going to be ugly. Joker is the most violent with his crowbar. He lays into people with crowbars all the time. But when Bruce catches sight of this particular one he feels like he might be sick. The crowbar is painted red and yellow like Robin's uniform with an "R" painted near the top. It's a crowbar designed specifically for Dick. He grinds his teeth and bites back his nausea. He has so many mixed feelings in that moment but the predominant one is dread. Joker isn't playing around.

The first blow to Dick's body is lighter than Bruce expected. It isn't painless, Dick's grunt and the way his body tightens around the new injury to his chest is proof of that, but it's nowhere near as powerful as his normal blows. He's taking his time, enjoying the pain he's inflicting. Another blow, this one harder, to Dick's side. Dick moans this time and tries to scoot away from Joker and his crowbar. Joker just laughs and laughs as he raises the crowbar over his head and brings it down on Dick's back. This time, Dick lets out a yelp. Bruce nearly loses

Joker is taunting Dick again now, "What's the matter bird boy? I can't hear you. You have to sing for me if you want it to stop. You know the rules by now!"

Another blow to Dick's arm lands after the words leave Joker's mouth. Dick's small whimper barely carries over the speaker of his phone but the sound still strikes a chord in his heart. He can't tell which side of him is winning out: the Bat or the father. The Bat is angry beyond words and the father is feeling sick to his stomach with worry. The combination of the two is enough to make him lightheaded.

Joker sighs now and looks directly at the camera, "You're not putting on a very good show, bird brat. Don't you want daddy Bats to hear you sing too? I'm sure he would love to hear your voice right about now."

Dick's head shoots up and his eyes find the camera. Bruce can see the dread on his face as he realizes what Joker is saying. He winces as he sits up slowly and puts on a brave face, masking the pain as best he can and trying to look strong. Bruce feels pride now, mixing in with the fear and anger, at how strong his son is even in such a terrible situation. No amount of training can make someone that strong. Dick was simply born with that in him and Bruce hates he has to be strong right now. He wants to hold him and protect him and let him just be a kid but that's not going to happen. Not anymore. He's Robin and the adoptive child of Bruce Wayne. He has one million targets on his back.

Joker starts laughing even harder now at the look on Dick's face. He's enjoying his son's pain too much. Bruce watches as Joker raises the crowbar again in the middle of his laughter and brings it down on Dick's back. Dick's cry of pain is cut off abruptly as he bites down on his lip, and Bruce winces. The sounds rings loudly in his ears, echoing over and over again. He finds it difficult to breathe suddenly and the room feels too hot, too small, too close. This is all wrong. A father should not have to see his child in so much pain, helpless to stop it. A father is supposed to protect his child. Protect.

Joker dances around a little now, "Ohhhh you let me hear your voice! I'm so happy Robiepoo. But I need more, you cut it off too soon!"

When the crowbar connects with Dick's side there's an audible snap and this time, Dick can't keep his scream at bay. The sound pierces Bruce's ears and he gasps. He definitely broke a few bones with that blow. That kind of scream always accompanies broken bones. Bruce feels sick again and this time he might actually throw up. Thankfully Joker seems satisfied for the moment. He tosses the crowbar away and dances around Dick's trembling, bloody body. Dick isn't even trying to look tough anymore, just lying in a heap on the floor with blood starting to pool underneath him. He looks terrible.

The screen goes black and the Keeper is looking out at him again. Bruce can tell it's an automated message this time though. The Keeper's pale eyes aren't looking at him instead they are focused somewhere over his shoulder, "I hope you enjoyed the show Bruce. I know Joker enjoyed putting it on for you. I'll be in touch with you again in the next twenty-four hours and I promise to have another video for you to watch then as well."

Then the screen clicks off. Bruce wants to hit something or someone. Instead of doing that though he takes a deep breath, puts his phone in his jacket pocket, and walks back out into the den like nothing happened. He will speak with Alfred about this later and he will be sure to run the entire video through analyzing software tonight. He needs to figure out where Dick is being held before Joker kills him. Dick can only take so many beatings before his body will give in. Bruce isn't going to let that happen though. He refuses to. He will get Dick out of there and he will make sure this Keeper person pays for his son's pain.

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Dick's whole body hurts. From the tips of his hair all the way down to his toes. Every muscle, bone and joint is throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He groans, rolling slightly so he's on his stomach instead of his side. Some of the pain alleviates but at the same time more flares up in all new spots. He can't remember the last time he was this hurt. Probably when Two-Face had a go at him. Yeah, that sounded right in his mind and his body seemed to agree. You don't just forget beatings like this, they stick with you.

Thankfully, Joker left him alone after snapping at least two of his ribs. He definitely cracked a third. His back feels bruised to the bone and his arms are on fire the knife cutting into his flesh. Add in his busted lip and possibly broken nose and he is a big, miserable mess. He's grateful Joker didn't keep going. Sometimes, one good scream is enough to please Joker for a while, others there's nothing you can do but wait until he's bored. Dick wonders if he's under orders not to beat him completely senseless and that's why he stopped so quickly. Joker likes to draw out his playtime and really make his prisoners suffer. It looks like this Keeper has a bigger influence on him than Dick originally assumed.

Dick is just starting to fight off sleep when the door creaks open and footsteps approach him slowly. It isn't Joker at least. The steps are too regulated, too soft. And he doesn't think it's Harley either, she can't keep her mouth shut. The Keeper then. The man makes Dick's stomach twist painfully. He's an unknown in this equation. A random variable he can't predict yet. He doesn't like being in the dark about an opponent. He prides himself on knowing everything he can about the villains he's up against. Unknowns are not allowed. Batman makes sure he knows everything about everyone so he can always be prepared.

"Well, you're looking a little more cooperative now," his voice sends pins and needles down Dick's spine. He still doesn't know what about this man is off but something is.

Dick doesn't respond, just pushes himself in to a sitting position and glares daggers at the man in front of him.

The Keeper smiles slowly, that strange smile with no emotion behind it, "Oh, trying to look tough now are you? Dear boy, there's no reason to put on a front with me. I can see how broken you are, there is no hiding it."

Again Dick says nothing, just glares at him.

The Keeper seems annoyed with Dick and his silence, "You will need to be somewhat whole for what I have planned. But there's no reason for you to be totally unharmed. Joker did well, breaking you in places that won't affect everything else we have to do still. I need your help, you see."

Dick scoffs now, unable to hold in the disbelief. Does this man really think he's going to help him?

The Keeper glowers at him, "Do not patronize me boy, I can bring the Joker back in here. You are far from useless to me. I'm sure he can break a few more bones in your body before you pass out or become worthless."

"Nothing you do will make me cooperate with you. Why don't the bad guys ever get that? Good guys don't give in to bad guys. That's how it works."

"I'm not your usual bad guy. I'm different and you will help me in the end. Willingly or by force, it's up to you. You can have two broken bones or ten. It makes no difference to me."

Dick narrows his eyes, "You could break every bone in my body and I still wouldn't help you."

"Hmm…you won't be saying that for long. But for now, we must leave this place behind. I have no doubt in my mind your father will figure out this location from the video I sent him. He is quite adept at his detective work after all. Too many hidden clues for him to sniff out. Moving means you need to be drugged though. I'm sure the rest will do you good, anyway."

Dick feels a sliver of fear, "You don't have to drug me. I promise not to fight."

The truth is, Dick hates drugs. Being forced into unconsciousness is bad enough, the lack of control he has over his bed when he first wakes up is even worse. And sometimes, if the wrong medication is used or he's given even a little bit too much he'll be sick for hours. Throwing up and shivering and feeling utterly miserable.

"Unfortunately that isn't option. You see, you were raised by the Batman himself. You can pick up clues and find some way to let him know where you're being held. We can't have that happening before it's time. So you will be drugged and then moved but I promise the next place will be better than this one. This was merely a temporary hideaway until I could be sure Bruce sent out the call for the League to gather."

Dick frowns at his words. Why would he want the League gathered? They're one hundred times stronger when they work together. Having every member out to get him is suicide. They'll annihilate him without even breaking a sweat. Something very strange is happening here and he's determined to figure out what before it's too late.

The Keeper is moving toward him again now, two men entering the room behind him. Dick can't move though. His whole body is struggling enough just to keep him sitting up straight. Moving is out of the question. So he is forced to wait as the Keeper crouches in front of him, looking like he's enjoying this way too much, "Now, you may feel a slight pinch but then everything will fade away. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Dick doesn't believe that for a second. The Keeper places one hand on his forehead and a sharp pain shoots down his spine and through his extremities, he gasps and then the world is turning black. The Keeper's strange, colorless eyes are the last thing he sees.

So? What did you think? Was it okay? I hope so! I'm trying so hard to please ya'll with this one and I promise we'll get some of the Team and other Leaguers in the next chapter. I felt like there needed to be a bit of Bruce fatherly distress though! Please R&R, it's greatly appreciated and helps me keep going!