Don't you just love snow days?

I don't own Young Justice?

Chapter 11

The blue-uniformed nurse kept a firm grip on Dick's arm as he and another nurse led the boy down the hallway. Dick stumbled at the pace, unable to see anything through the dark blindfold. He was pretty sure that the man was leading him in circles. Joke was on him though. Dick would remember every turn. It had been a right, a left, two rights, a slight left, a sharp right, and a left… no a right! And then a left? Oh… Maybe the man did know what he was doing. Tati would be disappointed.

They stopped. Dick heard a ding, a sliding sound as doors slid open, and he was pushed forward. A second later, there was a second sliding sound as the doors slid closed and he felt himself moving up for a while. After the elevator came to a stop, Dick was shoved forward and led through several more turns. Eventually, they stopped again, and the nurse not holding Dick typed something into a keypad. Dick heard a sliding sound, and then the jingling of keys as the nurse unlocked the door. He opened it and they shoved Dick inside. Then, they closed and locked the door behind him.

Dick waited a second, and then slowly removed the blindfold. He blinked a few times at the sudden sensation of daylight. Daylight. Dick couldn't remember the last time he saw day. It must have been the day he was kidnapped. That was so long ago. He closed his eyes and basked in the sunlight for a few minutes.

Far too soon for Dick's liking, he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The room was a muted blue color. One side of the room had purple swirls on it, and small designs, some of which were covered up by other designs. There were three beds, two desks that doubled as nightstands, and two lamps that almost looked glued to the desk. A wooden chair sat in front of each desk. Beneath each bed, there was a dresser with three drawers. There were leather belts with metal buckles tucked under each bed, one near each foot of the bed, and another couple near the middle. Dick shivered uneasily.

All the beds had stark white sheets on them. One of the beds by the window was messy. The desk next to it had a small stack of what looked like textbooks, and a sketch pad. There was a small paint pallet, some dull crayons, and a stylus, which looked like it couldn't be sharp if it wanted to be. There was also some paper strewn around, some of it flat, the rest of it either crumbled or in origami shapes. Dick counted three swans and a frog amongst innumerable origami stars and cubes. The wall behind the messy bed held several small pictures, partially hidden by the covers, expertly painted.

Dick moved to the other bed by the window, which was right next to the third bed so that someone could easily cross one bed to get to the other, if need be. He slid out of the slippers the nurses had given him before he left the Target Dump and knelt down to see what was in the dressers. Just then, there was a bzzzzt sound, and the sound of footsteps and voices filled the hallway. Small and large footsteps and nervous chatter. One set stopped outside Dick's door.

After a few seconds, there was the clattering of keys. The door was unlocked and the sandy haired boy from the Target Dump was pushed in. Sandy sighed, tossed a bag across the room, and walked to his bed, hopping on and kicking off slippers similar to Dick's. Then, he froze, and slowly looked up to meet the curious eyes of his new roommate.

"Gah! Where did you come from?"

Dick frowned. That was a very chalant greeting. He answered nonchalantly, yet softly because his voice still hadn't come all the way back by now. "Oh, you know. That room downstairs that has kids in it. You were there a bit ago, I think."

"Oh. You were in the Target Dump with me? I guess that explains why you're so skinny." Sandy said relaxing. Dick nodded. "I'm Alex, but someone is trying to get the name Cloudy to catch on."

"Dick."

"Hey!"

"No! My name is Dick!"

"Oh… That's a weird name."

"It's a nickname for Richard." The two boys were silent for a moment.

"What number did you get?" Alex asked. Dick grasped what he was talking about instantly.

"169. You?"

"187. That's weird. 169 is lower than 187, isn't it? But you left the Target Dump this morning, right? I left two and a half weeks ago."

"Yeah. I think the doctor guy said something about it being one they skipped."

"Great. I thought that whoever had 169 had just died quickly, before I got out of the Target Dump or something." Alex pulled out a red bound notebook and pen from a hiding place under his mattress, and opened it. He flipped through the pages. "169… 169… Got it. How neat is your handwriting, Richie?"

"Don't call me Richie. What is that?" Dick furrowed his nose, watching as Alex retrieved his bag and searched though it for a pen.

"Do you have a last name?"

"Yeah, Grayson." Dick replied distractedly, "What is that?"

"Like Billionaire Bruce Wayne's son?"

"The same." He said awkwardly. Even in a kidnapping situation, in a different country, he was instantly recognized as a rich kid. No wonder Tati put such a large emphasis on keeping Robin and Dick separate.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was kidnapped, weren't you? What's the book?"

"Oh. Yeah." Alex paused. "It's a book recording the real names, and some nicknames, of everyone who's come through here. People die and disappear fairly often, so…"

"What? Die? What is this place?"

Alex hesitated, but, at a glare from Dick, answered the question. "It's an asylum on the outside, probably to further hide the truth of the inside. No one comes here willingly. Not that they would at a real asylum, but yeah. On the inside, it's a hive of human experimentation. Everyone has been kidnapped or snatched from somewhere. I think they choose most of who they take carefully, but occasionally they grab someone in the spur of the moment.

"Most of the kids come here together on a bus, get tattooed and are delivered to rooms like this one immediately. A few of the kids are like us. Shipped here in boxes and needing time to recover in the Target Dump—it's called that because about half the people in there were specially targeted for kidnapping from rich or influential people to raise money for the experiments. The other half typically put up a hell of a fight. We're 'special order' because we need special attention. They find it extra important that we don't escape." Alex held out the book and pen to Dick, and Dick hesitantly printed his name next to the number 169. There were names printed next to all the other numbers on the page, and Alex had left a few lines below each number blank, possibly for notes or for people who write big.

"How…how many are special order? And does that mean that my Tati, and some of the other kid's parents, are essentially funding this without realizing it?"

"Yeah. Essentially. Not too many are special order compared to the rest of the kids, but we tend to, umm, survive longer, in general. Everyone on this floor who isn't a guard is special order. We have extra security. There are three more floors with kids on them above ground, but their rooms are more crowded. We have two or three or some singles. There's an average of four kids per room on the other floors and a couple dormitories with twelve on the second and third floors. There are guard rooms by the staircases and on the first floor. Uh… most of the kids here are boys, but there are some girls on the second floor and a couple rooms on this floor are girl's rooms. The most trusted kids, the ones who have been here the longest and have Stockholm Syndrome live on the fifth floor. It's all singles and doubles up there. There are a bunch of empty rooms, too. There's at least 195 kids numbered, but I've only seen about a hundred and twenty, hundred and thirty kids, so that's not encouraging. And, yeah."

Alex fiddled with a chain around his neck and watched Dick as he slowly absorbed and categorized the information he'd been given. "I don't know what the experiments are yet. They have only done preliminary stuff on me so far, and no one will talk about them. The other kids go noticeably pale when I ask, even the kids with dark skin tones."

Dick took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "What about the little kids? Damian can't be more than four or five."

"Damian?"

"The little kid in the Target Dump with us."

"Oh. Well, I have not seen any kids that young, besides him. Most of the kids are in their preteens or early teens, like eleven to thirteen or fourteen. There are some ten and younger, but none that young. Maybe… twenty total under the age of ten?" Dick's stomach dropped. That wasn't encouraging. "But, on the bright side, he'll probably be joining us here when he leaves the Target Dump. There's a third bed, and most of the special orders here room with the people they came here with."

Dick nodded mutely. At some point during the information session from Alex, he had pulled himself up onto the bed he claimed. Now, he dropped back so that he was lying down with his feet dangling off. Alex watched him quietly. "You should take a nap. We'll have dinner in a couple hours. We get dinner and breakfast in here and eat lunch in the mess with everyone else. They want to control our food intake, still. I think it's partially because they starved us on the way here, and didn't starve the other kids." Dick pulled his feet up and curled up on top of the covers, feeling overwhelmed. He faced away from Alex and tapped the goggles on his head, still not fully understanding why, or how, he still had them and no one had moved to take them away from him. He closed his eyes, and went to sleep.


A few hours after Dick laid down to rest, he felt a hand gently shaking him. Not quite awake yet, all Dick could think was danger. Forget the gentle, tentative nature of the touch; Dick reacted with his instincts instead of rational thought. He lashed out against the person who touched him and landed a strike. The person hissed and jumped back. Dick rolled to strike again… and hit the ground with a hard thud and yelp.

"What was that for?!" A slightly familiar voice demanded. Wait, familiar, friendly, words. Crud. Dick opened his eyes and looked up at Alex with regret.

"Sorry. Instinct?" he asked more than stated.

"Some instinct. Ow." Alex glared at his new roommate and then marched back to his side of the room. "Dinner." He said, indicating a plate with some sort of mystery meat, a roll, and potatoes lying innocently on Dick's desk.

"Oh. Sorry, Alex. Did I hurt you?" The glare lessened slightly at Dick's puppy dog eyes.

"No. Just my pride. Eat. Or they'll force it down your throat." Dick startled at that statement. Alex sounded pretty serious, and Dick didn't doubt that they would try to force feed him if he didn't eat it. Fingering his goggles, he sat down at his desk and inspected the dinner he'd been given. It looked like standard fare, and he had been getting similar food in the Target Dump. Deciding that if they wanted him dead, they would not have nursed him back to health after the hellish ocean voyage, Dick began to slowly eat.

There was silence for a while, as the two boys munched on the food in front of them. The awkward silence stretched out until Dick was certain he would scream if nothing was said soon.

"So,"

"Where are you-?"

The two boys started to speak at the same time. They each gave a nervous laugh, and then said "After you," in perfect sync as well. Dick nodded to Alex, indicating he should go first.

"So, how did they get you? I mean, you're the son of a billionaire. I doubt you go a lot of places without security guards." Dick blinked at the question. It was understandable, but not what he'd been expecting. He glanced down at his goggles, before meeting Alex's eyes. He took a deep breath.

"I don't, or well, didn't actually go that many places accompanied by guards. I'm small, so I escape attention pretty easily most of the time. Being surrounded by guards all the time would draw attention to me. While they might deflect some kidnappers, they would act as a challenge to the smart ones, the ones clever and daring enough to actually consider going after the son of a billionaire. Plus, I'm fairly proficient in self-defense and have highly tuned instincts, as you just saw. They caught me while I was going to my friend's house. I was planning to tutor her for an hour in math, like I normally do on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then go out with my best friend. I was thinking about that, so I didn't hear them coming until we were surrounded. I think they just took me, but they might have taken her too. I'm trying not to think about that part actually. She was dating my best friend, so it would have been much harder on him than how hard it actually is now if we were both taken."

Wally was probably searching the world for him. Dick imagined having Artemis there would be able to knock some sense into him. Her being there didn't mean he would stop searching, just that he wouldn't run himself to the ground or die of starvation doing it. Uncle Barry would help with that too, but not as much as Artemis. If they were both gone, then there was only so much Uncle Barry could do, and after that there'd be nothing to stop Wally. It scared Dick, to be honest.

Wally's determination was great as a pick me up but not great for Wally. Dick didn't want to come back home to find that his best friend had run out of energy over the Atlantic Ocean, fallen, and drowned or been rescued by Aquaman who had to take him to the watchtower when he wouldn't wake up, like that time when Wally was twelve and thought that going to Paris for a snack would be fun.

"Have you seen a tall, tan girl, 15 years old, with super long, curly blonde hair, by any chance?"

"No. Sorry, but like I said, they don't seem to take many girls."

"Don't apologize. That's good news. But, what about you? What's your story? Before getting snatched and how you were snatched?"

"Well, I was born in Australia, but was snatched in Rome, Italy. When I was 8, we visited Rome as a family: Mom, Dad, older sister, and me. We were planning to stay for a week, but there was an accident on the third day of our vacation, a car crash. I got thrown out of the car and rolled down the hill. I was fine because the window was open and I knew how to roll with the momentum and slow myself down, but my mom and dad were goners.

"By the time I made it back up the hill, there were polizia cars all around and mom and dad were dead. My older sister was being shoved into a cop car to be taken somewhere, probably an orphanage. She saw me first, and her face, her eyes were scared and urgent. She had cuts on her cheeks. She indicated with her head that I should run. So I did. I ran and ran until I found a hidden, abandoned alleyway and I crawled behind a dumpster and hid. I fell asleep there.

"I never saw my sister again. These psychos caught me while I was sneaking some slightly burnt but still completely edible bread out of a dumpster. I put up a pretty good fight. I knocked out three of them before the remaining two managed to get me in a solid hold and headlock. They pricked me with something, and I was on my way." Alex finished, sounding satisfied, and slightly proud of himself. He nodded, and smiled at Dick, who had been listening with interest.

"Wow. I didn't manage to get any of mine out. Art- my friend might have though. Not before I got knocked out, but before she did."

They were silent for another moment.

"That's probably another plus. Being a girl and a fighter. They probably left her behind. Otherwise, she would have been in the Target Dump with us. I've heard that they did that with a bunch of kids. Left witnesses behind, I mean."

Well, there was some relief.

"What comes next? I mean, I know I'm out of the Target Dump and stuff, but what happens tomorrow."

"Well, what happened with me was that they came and got me a little after everyone else left. They took me to a small room and tested me for everything from diseases, to allergies, to reflexes, and then tested my school skills with a million and ten tests. I can read and write, but I haven't been to school. Street smarts mostly. Somewhere in the middle, they fed me lunch. After it was all done, they brought me back here. Then, the next day, they showed me to a classroom and I joined the normal routine. They put me in a remedial class with other street rats. For you, since you've been in school and all, you might not have to do all the tests, but they probably don't want to tip anyone off by checking your school records, so yeah."

"They could just check the news. I'm pretty sure Celebrity Weekly once posted my GPA and pictures from my mathlete tournament. I think Tati sued them for it. He didn't want me in the media." Dick said with a scowl.

"You've been in a magazine?"

"Too many. The media are vultures. You don't want that part of my life. Trust me."

"I don't know. Steady meals. A dad who will give me anything I want, and a place to live comfortably all sound like they'd make up for it."

"Tell that to my brother, Jason. He was a street rat for a few years, and I think he wants to go back sometimes."

"Bruce Wayne allowed his son to live on the streets?"

"We're both his legal wards, not exactly sons, so he found us later in life. He would never leave Jason out on the streets alone. Wouldn't let me out alone either, especially not if I ever get home after this." He trailed off, looking at the slightly irritated tattoo on his forearm. "I consider Jay my brother, but I don't think Tati, I mean, Bruce sees us as sons."

"Harsh, dude."

"Yeah." Dick trailed off. He had begun officially calling Bruce Tati in his head sometime around the second week in his hellhole on the ship, but wasn't sure it was mutual.

(A/N Flashback time)

The space felt like it was closing in on him. He was hungry, but afraid to eat any more of the food in case he ran out. He had the typical, bad nightmare about his family's death, except the whole scene was rocking the whole time. Back and forth. Back and forth. They were slipping all over the place, and flew across the air as they fell.

Then, Dingbat 3 had joined the party, and smiled at the Graysons lying broken on the ground. Dingbat 3 grabbed Dick when he tried to escape and started whispering things Dick couldn't remember, and wasn't sure he had understood, but in the rough voice he had heard at the warehouse near the dock.

Dick woke up heaving as Dingbat 3 with help from another Dingbat who appeared out of nowhere began to drag him out of the tent while Bruce looked on, trying to get through the panicking crowd to Dick. That was all Dick remembered from the dream, although he knew there was something else in there that scared him even more, but he had blocked it out.

All he wanted at that point was Tati. Not the man who had died, but the one trying to break through the crowd to reach him, to save him. The one who had never given up on him and never would. He had cried himself back to sleep, and thought of Bruce as Tati ever since.

(A/N End Flashback)

"So I have to basically undergo a complete medical and mental examination tomorrow?"

"Essentially."

"Asterous. And they'll come get me?"

"Yeah, they don't let us out unsupervised. Heck, we're even supervised in here. See the camera." Alex pointed to a small, almost hidden camera with a blinking red light. Dick followed his eyes, noting that it was not the type of camera that recorded sound, although most people wouldn't know that. "I think if someone's super well behaved for a while, then they'll let them out of this area, and those people and the kids who came in normally are less supervised, eating all meals in the cafeteria and such. I haven't heard for sure about anyone switching though. Maybe a rich kid or two, like you, but most of us are here because we're rebellious, not obedient."

"Whelming," Dick said, unconvincingly. Having finished his dinner, he climbed back onto his bed and flopped down on his stomach, burying his head in his pillow with his arms underneath, goggles held tightly in his left hand, and then adjusting slightly so that he wasn't touching the tattoo directly.

"Asterous? Whelming?" Dick mumbled something into his pillow.

"What was that?"

"I said I'll explain later."

Alex gave him a soft smile. "Ok. Get some rest. That was a long day for me, and it might be just as long for you. Good night."

There was a muffled sound that might have been a "Night" from Dick, and then Dick passed out.

A/N

Hello! Nice long chapter for you guys, with some details about what's happening on Dick's side.

Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews!

Let me know if there's anything else you still want to know about that wasn't explained in this chapter. Besides the significance of the goggles. That's coming up.

So, like Alex, I'm going to be adding OCs into this story because there's a bunch of other kidnapped kids to interact with. I'm trying to avoid this becoming an OC story with too many characters to keep up with, so let me know if I start leaning that way please.

Response to Reviews:

If you have an account and didn't get a response to a review from me, please let me know. I try to reply to all of them, but I think I might have accidentally missed one or two.

All Guests: Thanks for the reviews!

Guest who reviewed Chapter 7: Five days earlier and I could have totally incorporated that idea. It was an awesome idea, but I would have needed to mention it in Chapter 10. Which makes me sad because it was perfect and I could have done so much with it. The only loophole is the question of what would have happened to the "real" Dick Grayson. Artemis and Wally would have known the truth anyways, so they could play along.

I wish you had an account. I would have loved to pm you about it.

Guest who reviewed Chapter 11:

Yes. Damian is the son of Bruce and Talia ah Ghul. Damian's four, although he looks like he could pull off five if he tried, not that there's a ton of difference when that young. Jason is 11. He'll fit in okay once they get over the fact he's not their Robin.