My Sons' Eyes Are Blue, Too

By

AJ

Part 7 – An Abandoned Pair

As Bruce collapsed he got a good look at the man's face. "Malone? How?"

"Hadn't you paid attention to the news? I was released on bail . . . along with my friend. Say goodnight Wayne," Malone sneered. "With you out of the way, nothing will stop me from taking your son."

As Bruce slipped into unconsciousness he didn't hear Malone's last words. All he thought about was who bailed out Matthew Malone and Jasper Cage?

By the time Bruce came to, he was trussed up with his hands tied above his head. Nightwing was across from him, unconscious and hanging upside down.

'How did they get the drop on him?' Bruce wondered. Then he noticed something dripping from Nightwing's shoulder. A puddle of blood was forming right below him.

"No!' Bruce raged. 'He could bleed to death. I've got to get loose.'

Bruce worked as best he could, pulling down on the ropes to try to loosen them. He looked up to examine how the ropes were tied. He could see that the ropes were draped over a large hook in the ceiling. That worked to his advantage. If he could just start swinging . . . 'One more swing . . . Dick's better at this,' he thought. 'But if I don't get loose . . .'

Bruce was suddenly aware that the tension on the rope was gone as it slipped off the hook. He flipped over backwards to keep his hands in front. He landed in a crouch, his feet creating a loud bang as he landed on the wooden floor. Bruce froze in place. The noise that he just made might draw someone's unwanted attention. He waited for a moment of two, but no one came running to investigate. Where were Malone and Cage? Rather than take the time to answer that question, Bruce raced over to his costumed son. Nightwing was also hanging from a hook, but with him unconscious and wounded, Bruce knew he was going to need help.

'I just hope that wound isn't as bad as it looks.'

Bruce looked around to find something to stand on. There was an old table in the corner. The police didn't leave much when they cleaned the place out. Moving the table in place, Bruce climbed up and lifted Nightwing off the hook. He carefully lowered him to the floor and even though the material was tough Bruce ripped through the Kevlar like it was butter and discovered the extent of Nightwing's injury. Dick's collarbone had barely had time to heal when someone had struck him where one of the bones was now sticking through his flesh. It wasn't normally a life-threatening injury due to it's nature, but at the same time Dick could bleed to death if the wound wasn't taken care of and quickly. The only way he was going to help Dick was to get the two bones back in place. With Dick unconscious, he wasn't likely to feel any pain. Laying Dick flat on the floor, Bruce first tore a portion of his shirt from his body. Carefully grasping the broken bone, he first tried to separate the bones further to help maneuver it back into place.

"AAAAAhhhhhhhh," Nightwing cried out, but did not regain consciousness

'So much for not feeling any pain,' Bruce thought, as he continued to manipulate the bones back into position.

'He may not heal as fast as a full Talon, but he should heal faster than normal. The bones were starting to knit from what the Doctor told me before this happened.'

With the bones back in place, Bruce used the strip of cloth to create a makeshift sling. With it open, it was only going to bleed without the wound being closed. Bruce tried to pack the wound by wrapping another strip of cloth around Nightwing's shoulder. Time was running out. Where were their adversaries? They must have left them there, probably to get some supplies since the house was cleaned out.

'They probably didn't think we could escape.'

He did not know when the two men would return. Bruce surmised that their plans were probably to ransom him and if he didn't cooperate they would kill Nightwing in front of him.

'Ohhh," Nightwing was coming to.

"Nightwing . . . Dick . . ." Bruce coaxed his son.

Nightwing's eyes fluttered open. "Bruce?"

"Nightwing, can you tell me what happened? Why did . . ."

"Went to search . . . for the fear toxin." Nightwing stated. "Got struck from behind. Fell . . . Shoulder hurts . . ."

"You've broken your collarbone, this time the bone was sticking through."

"This time?" Nightwing questioned.

"You fell down the stairs at . . ."

"Oh . . . now I remember . . . Nightmare . . . Ran . . ." Nightwing replied. "The fear toxin . . . it's got to be here. We don't have much time."

"I'll search," Bruce replied. "Then I've got to get you out of here."

Bruce searched around, but he was doubtful he would find any evidence when he stepped on a loose board. It creaked under his foot. Could it be that simple? Could the police have over-looked an obvious hiding place? Bruce bent down and pried the loose board up with his fingers. The board came up part way. He placed his hand inside the small dark space. There was something hidden. It felt like a soft case. He pulled it out and opened it. The case contained several vials and a syringe.

'This has to be it,' Bruce shoved the case into his pocket and went back for Nightwing.

"Dick . . . Nightwing . . ." Bruce could see that blood quickly soaking through the makeshift bandage and into the Kevlar shirt. Nightwing had passed out again. Carefully picking him up, Bruce carried him out of the house.

'I'm surprised they didn't try to steal my car,' he thought. 'They wouldn't have gotten far anyway with all the security features.'

Bruce approached the car and repositioning his son, he pressed a thumb on the special lock. Recognizing his DNA and thumbprint, the car opened and Bruce was able to place Nightwing on the passenger seat. He buckled him in then got into the driver's seat.

'Turn phone on," Bruce said as he got in the car. "Dial the Manor, secure line."

"Wayne Manor," Alfred answered.

"Alfred, I can't explain just yet, but I need you to go to the following address," Bruce listed the number and street.

"That is one of your safe houses. May I inquire why?"

"I can't explain. Bring your medical kit, sutures and a pint of A+ blood."

"Oh dear, right away, Sir," Alfred responded. "But what about Master Damian?"

"Let him know where I've gone. He already has a task he's fulfilling for me."

"Very good, Sir. I shall be there shortly."

Bruce ended the call as he pulled into the driveway of the safe house, just three blocks away from Malone's old house. The last time he was here, he had a two-car garage built onto the property and the code added to the garage opener. He punched in the code and pulled the car into the garage. This way they would have privacy and no one would see Bruce Wayne carrying a comatose Nightwing. Entering the house through the garage's side door, Bruce carried Dick to the closest bedroom. He placed Dick on his right side then went to get whatever medical supplies he could find until Alfred arrived. He would have to remind Alfred to check all the safe houses for medical supplies, including suture kits. It seemed this one had accidently been overlooked.

"Hang on Chum, help is on the way."

Bruce carefully removed the top half of Nightwing's uniform and put it aside. He then removed his mask and was once again staring into the face of his son.

'Let's just hope the nightmares stay away at this point. You need taken care of. The fear toxin can wait until you're out of danger.'

Bruce brushed the hair out of his son's eyes. All ready a fever was setting in. 'This seems to always happen when he's injured then the injury doesn't last. Could that be the electrum in his system trying to heal him?'

Taking what medical supplies he had, Bruce removed the makeshift bandage. Upon examining the wound he didn't see any evidence of the wound trying to heal itself, not without taking any X-Ray to be sure.

'It must take time. The electrum isn't at the cellular level the way it was with Cobb. It may take several days. I'll have to keep an eye on it.'

Bruce did his best to clean the wound further to keep infection from setting in. 'I just hope Alfred will get here soon.'

Continues With Part 8