Recap:
He looked through blurred eyes to see a terrifyingly familiar black and orange mask so close to his own face. "Checkmate, apprentice. Checkmate." He could hear the triumphant grin in the man's voice. Nightwing was left with that thought, as his vision went black after Deathstroke delivering a single, efficient blow to his head.
Chapter VI
There wasn't enough coffee in North America to fight off the drowsy, irritable self the C.E.O had transformed into during the past three months. There were those among them who had begun to give up hope, it had been three months, after all. But they hadn't found a body, which was all the proof Bruce needed to keep searching.
That night had left them with more questions than one could ever sleep through without answers. In addition to Nightwing's obvious exhaustion and injury, he'd performed inhuman feats two nights in a row. But seeing the acrobat fight had been more worrisome than awe inspiring. He'd witnessed his own son kill before his eyes. At first, he'd refused to believe it. He would speak to Dick before any decisions or judgments. Even the Batman, hardened through years of exposure to humanities worst crime, couldn't bring himself to admitting that Dick was, by most if not all standards, considered a criminal.
If only that had been the last of the conundrum. Upon arriving at his son's apartment, he was met with a rather disturbed bedroom along with a torn photograph with the most disturbing site in the room: an empty bottle accompanied by a dirty needle. The bottle contained remnants of an unorthodox concoction of over five illicit drugs, along with an unidentifiable substance overpowering the mixture. Had there been slightly more of it left, they might have had more of a chance of discovering exactly what it was. But it was enough for League Members to deduce that Nightwing must have been under some sort of trance, committed the ultimate sin he had, and made a rash, misguided decision.
Bruce refused to entertain even the idea that Richard had committed suicide, as the others believed. It didn't fit his son's spirit. The pieces fit together too well. His former mathlete, honor student son turned to drugs, killed in that state, and killed himself after reflecting over his past innocence, hence the photograph of himself along with his friends and brother at an amusement park. No, someone planned this. For his sanity, Bruce repeated these facts to himself daily.
And after that night- nothing. The vigilante's various trackers had all been manually turned off and then destroyed. There wasn't a note, or a random call, or a sighting of him in any form. As if he'd simply been removed from the world, they were left with nothing to find him.
"It's been exactly three months," Tim said quietly, staring at the screen in front of him in the darkness of his bedroom. "It wouldn't be lucrative to delay the ransom this long if they've been trying to make us desperate." He slumped over himself in bed as if his spirit was slowly being pulled to the floor below him.
At first, Tim had been sure that his brother had run away. Then he believed he'd killed himself, sending the high schooler spiraling into a guilty paralysis of self-doubt and deep grief. Bruce had lost two sons, and saw his third withering away before him. He'd explained his thought process, if not exaggerating the probability of some sort of calculated kidnapping, although the billionaire highly doubted some sort of hostage situation, especially with the amount of time passing. He didn't know where his son was, or what he'd done, but he would lie to God himself if it meant pulling Tim up from his depression, even if it was only replaced by an unrelenting pursuit of finding Dick. "It is not a uniform system, Tim. It is too early to expect anything without room for doubt."
"It doesn't make sense…" Tim said under his breath, absentmindedly moving his hand across his laptop's keys.
"You need to sleep, Tim. This isn't good for you." Bruce sighed. He'd heard the furious tapping sounds from his ward's room, mentally thanking his increased hearing due to his vigilante work, he'd entered the other's room. "I know you went to bed tonight. What woke you?"
". . . another one of Dick's coms activated." It had happened twice before. As an added security measure, once deactivated, the Bat Clan's coms would spark to life and display an encrypted location to their system at a random time between the interval of two weeks to a year, or when destroyed or tampered with. To make matters even more sensitive, the feature been installed after Dick had been kidnapped for two months by an infamous mercenary, something Bruce swore would never happen again.
The problem was that Dick had only been using one, that was left destroyed in his apartment. The rest of them, along with any of his vigilante gear, had been taken back to the cave in favor of not leaving highly advanced technology in Richard's apartment when the police searched it when his public identity had finally been declared a missing person. "Have you been able to unencrypt the data?" There was little point in doing so, knowing they would all lead to the Batcave, but it would hardly aid in their fight against insomnia to ignore it.
"Very close." Time once again opened his laptop. He found himself once again longing for his tech-crazed older brother to assist him. "Here, it would go faster if you finished it, after all, you designed it."
Bruce nodded, taking the computer from him, the harsh light putting a strain on his eyes. He wordlessly began working through the code as Tim brought his knees up and held them as he watched.
Eventually, he did indeed find the data. "See Tim, it's at the cave like the others. You can go back to sleep now." He showed the other his findings and closed the laptop and placed it on a nearby desk. He placed his hand lightly on the other's shoulder, "Tomorrow's a big day, after all."
Bruce stood up and walked towards the door, looking at Tim's dejected face once more before wishing him a good night, and leaving the room. He rubbed his temples as he began the trek to the kitchen down stairs to refill his coffee cup.
He wasn't sure how long this could continue. Neither of them were handling the ordeal well, and they hadn't found anything to assist their search. Whatever had happened, there was much more to it than anyone could understand from the surface. Mindlessly he'd refilled his cup and dragged his tired limbs to the hidden entrance to the cave. As soon as he'd heard that typing noise come from Tim's room he'd known he wouldn't be sleeping that night.
His drowsy state vanished instantly as if someone had thrown ice water down his throat as he heard sounds of movement as well as saw a light projecting from the cave. With practiced stealth he silently set down the coffee, blending into the shadows around him as he proceeded into the room housing an unexpected visitor.
The desk lamp at the bat computer was on and there was most certainly someone sitting on the desk chair turned away from him. He could make out that the other was curled into himself and unmoving. He was wearing a blue hoodie with the hood over his head.
Curious as the form seemed, Bruce took every caution as he retrieved a batarang from the wall, as well as a taser as he approached with the attention of detaining the intruder. As the plan solidified in his mind he swiftly approached the other as the other, assumingly somehow hearing his silent movements swiveled around to face the other, stopping Bruce in his tracks.
The sea blue eyes of his son stared back at him. Dick Grayson sat, wide-eyed and tense, as they both looked on at each other. It would seem surreal and dream-like if it wasn't for the absurd amount of details gripping his mind. From the new material of the clothing he wore, the unkempt hair, the red eyes, the dark bruises littering the other's face and throat, even the way the other kept his hands enclosed tightly in fists.
None of it mattered, for a moment, as he finally allowed months' worth of worry and struggle subside as he pulled the other close to him, almost in mock that Richard would disappear into air once if he didn't hold hard stayed like that for a few minutes, lost in time. Bruce finally pulled back to look at the other, "Dick, where have you been? What happened?" the millionaire held the other's shoulders, waiting for the answers he'd been craving for.
Dick shook his head, body tensing. "I… I don't know how to tell you this… Things don't make sense anymore… ." He didn't look the other in the eye.
"Start with telling me what happened." Bruce couldn't even fathom what scenario would produce such an absurd response.
"I did something bad, Bruce. Something really, really bad. Something's wrong with me. And it will only get worse if I don't. . . I. . ."
"Dick, start with where you've been." He could easily recognize the beginnings of a panic attack.
He bit his lip and shook his head, "Why are you doing this like this?" Bruce furrowed his eyes even more dramatically, moving the hair out his son's face,
"What are you talking about, Dick? What am I doing?"
The shuffling sound behind him caused him to release his hold on Dick, and he swerved around to see a black and orange masked man leaning against one of the cave's wall, somehow completely unnoticed by the vigilante. "Honestly, Batman, I cannot understand how you keep such a reputation, yet you fail to detect intruders in your own base." Deathstroke stood before him, letting the remnants of a coms unit crumple from his hand onto the floor.
Batman stood and threw his weapons at the other, which normally would have pinned the other by the clothing to the wall he was leaning against for long enough for Bruce to detain him, yet the other moved quickly. "I wouldn't try anything rash, Wayne, I have many more cards that remain unknown to you."
"What in the world is going on here?" Bruce growled through his teeth. He'd finally gotten his son back, yet Deathstroke had appeared in his cave, knowing his identity, and threatening him.
"Pity. I'd rather hoped you'd be able to understand without my interference. Regardless, of that," He moved through the shadows slowly, pacing, "You'll remember when Richard worked for me before. I still believe he has more potential than you are willing or able to train. I cannot let such a talent go to waste. Therefore, once again I've made him my apprentice once again, despite your best attempts to keep me from him."
"He isn't your apprentice, Slade, you've just managed to kidnap him. And if that is truly the story, why on earth would you both be here now?" He watched the other's slow and calculated movements with practiced precision.
"It wouldn't help anyone if my apprentice lost track of what's important." He stated vaguely, "I am obligated to give no more of an explanation. I have business elsewhere for a week, and during that time Richard will stay here. Then, he will once again come with me to train. This is the most sustainable practice for all involved, and it is nonnegotiable"
"And what makes you think Richard will go back with you?"
"He may choose to explain himself to you if he wishes." He waved a hand dismissively, and turned towards one of the exits. Bruce felt his heart raging in his chest, breathing faster as anger filled him, he charged the other, fully intending on detaining him.
Slade moved once again, dodging. Still though, Bruce was now blocking his exit. "You will move aside."
Bruce remained there like a boulder, staring the other down. "You forced my hand." Batman caught the slight movement of one of Slade's fingers before he heard a cry from Richard. Looking over, he saw his son's face contorted in pain as he fell to his knees out of the chair. Body tense through painful bolts of electricity flowing through his body as his hands pulled on his neck.
"Dick!" Bruce made the connection between Slade's words and the effect on Dick soon enough to see the assassin's coy smirk.
"Move aside, Wayne." Deathstork grinned as the other did in fact move, left helpless in checkmate as he waited for the assault on his son to stop. It did within moments, as the other dropped to the floor. "One week, apprentice. You know the rules." He threatened as the left, on apposed, through the batcave door.
Bruce wasted no time running to his son and helping him back to the chair, only now noticing with disgust the steel collar around the other's neck. Richard tried to catch his breath, finally composing himself.
Batman could clearly place the signs of overexertion and stress in his body, and he looked like he would collapse at any second. He picked the other up, carried him to the medical center of the cave, and gently placed him on the hospital bed.
There was so much he didn't know. There was so much inner complexity that's very existent tortured him. But his son needed to rest, there would be time for answers later. For now, he needed to make sure his son was alright.
"Dick, no matter what, I want you to know that we will sort this out and get out of it." His eyes didn't stay from the other's for a moment.
The former Robin said nothing in response. He just shook his head, feeling his eyes start to glaze over once his system realized that the threat was gone. He welcomed the darkness that overcame him, not wanting to face his guardian after all that had happened.
Bruce watched as the other fell into unconsciousness. He didn't know where to begin. Nothing that had happened could have been predicted, and was so unexpected, all he could do for the moment was sit by his son's side, and try to come to terms with the events that had changed everything in less than ten minutes.
I managed to make it just in time in line with the deadline! Thank you for all of the new readers and my loyal reviewers who continue to inspire me. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, all though it was largely transitional. Forgive me for all the mistakes in the chapter and it's rushed nature!
Thank you so much for reading, please review!
Next Chapter Deadline: November 1st, 2016.
