Glad people like how I'm doing Slade so far! Well, here we're going to have another character come in who hardly gets used, here or elsewhere. =P and the title, anyone familiar with the rules knows what that's about. Enjoy!
Dick-16/17 Jason-13 Cass-11/12 Tim-9 Damian-3
Sacrifice
3 – Rule 4
He didn't see the man walk up to him. He didn't hear the force field drop. He didn't really care to look up anymore. The screens showing his family may or may not be there anymore, but it didn't matter. Richard Grayson wasn't really there anymore. Just his body, for whatever this madman had in store for him.
"Change."
An orange and black uniform was handed over to Dick, along with gloves, boots, and underwear. He took it numbly, not daring to look up. He couldn't trust his emotions right then. His freedom handed over to an assassin that wanted to make him like him, or take his family's lives. Those were his choices. No one would want to see anything after having to make that choice.
"Leave everything on you here. Everything." Slade walked a little ways off, fingering a few extra devices. He only looked over to the sullen boy once before commenting again. "Don't act so sad Richard. I know it looks bad now, but believe me, you'll grow to like it. Now change. Can't have Wayne finding you now can we?"
The teen bit his lip and started to strip. He didn't like the idea of selling himself to this man. Did being his apprentice mean he'd be his boy-toy too? Sick little… He had a long shirt on so he managed to change pants without showing anything. Moving to his shirt and undershirt, he hesitated when he came to his watch. A large leather binding and the most updated face-watch on the planet. It also doubled as a tracker, emergency signal and a light. There were some medicines also tucked along the edges, condensed forms of anti-toxins and the like for emergency use. Bruce was very paranoid. Removing that was to go off the grid entirely. So he took it off, laying it on top of his pile of folded clothes and shoes (habit from Alfred). It went nicely with his cellphone.
The last thing he owned on him was the one thing he didn't ever want to leave behind. When he first came to Wayne Manor, Bruce gave him a perfectly made chain, one that wouldn't break easily or rust. He had Dick put his parents' wedding bands on it. Wore it ever since, no matter what. Bruce had one just like it since his parents' murder. Jason and Tim had their parents' rings as well. They never took them off. It was like keeping their love around them, always; a reminder of where they came from as individuals. A good reminder.
"I'm waiting apprentice."
Dick chanced a look at the monitors again, spotting Bruce still in the study with Damian. They were picking out another book. He could still see his parents' picture. Slowly he took a breath then worked the chain over his head, careful not to break it. Once off, he carefully arranged the chain and rings on top of the pile. He didn't want to let go of them but he had no choice. As soon as his hands were off those cool pieces of metal, he rapidly finished putting on Slade's uniform for him, walking around the neat stack that once belonged to him. He didn't want to see what he had to give up for others.
The assassin looked him over once redressed, circling him slightly. The acrobat knew this kind of inspection; he went through it at school all the time by gripey teachers and parents. They loved to inspect him then put him down.
"Hmm…." Slade gripped his chin slightly, forcing the teen to look at him listlessly. There must have been something wrong about him in the man's eyes. He let go of his chin and turned towards an opening in the crates. "Come. We have a long journey ahead of us."
Dick nodded and started following, looking once back over to the woman still cowering in the floor. "Do not mind her apprentice. She's served her purpose, and now she is free."
This brought some relief to the teen, but not enough for him to smile. Silently he followed after his master, not at all happy by the situation he was now in, and nearly ran into an aging gentleman waiting for them at another entrance. The old guy took him back for a moment. He seemed to act a lot like Alfred. Why was he with Slade Wilson?
"I see everything has gone well sir?" He seemed to eye Dick for a moment, sizing him up before taking a long look at his face. Something seemed to change in his expression when he did that, causing him to swiftly turnabout and head towards the car outside.
"Perfectly Wintergreen."
"Sir, I'd advise a mask in this young man's case." He cast another look in the teen's direction. "His eyes are…"
"I'm perfectly aware of the effect his eyes have on people." Slade looked back to Dick who was becoming confused. Miserable, but confused. People said he had very emotional eyes before, and an unusual shade of blue, but did it really had an effect on people? "He'll have something to take care of that soon enough. Inside the car apprentice."
Dick nodded dumbly, sliding in like he did hundreds of times with the car at home. Slade followed suit, shutting the door behind him firmly. Wintergreen took the front, playing chauffer. Really, was this guy trying to imitate Alfred? Well he didn't have the accent.
As the motor started up, Slade looked at the pouty, angst filled boy who chose silence now that he was beaten. Dick actually had lots to say. He was just certain that if he said any of it, someone would die. So to save lives, and his breath, he folded his arms and glared out the window to see time and traffic slip by.
"Don't be so upset Richard," the mercenary started. "This really is all for your benefit."
"Hmph." Benefit? Do or die wasn't benefit. It was blackmail.
"You really will learn to love what I teach you, you'll see."
"Right." Love what he teaches? Dick was planning on being a cop after high school, maybe a Gotham detective. This guy was pretty much blowing that plan out of the water, along with hundreds of others. How was he supposed to honor his parents' memories now?
"In time, you may even see me as a father to you."
"I already have a father." His eyes narrowed in self-loathing as he thought of this. "And you're nothing like him."
"Dinner is served Master Bruce."
Alfred's message was a welcomed intrusion on the CEO's thoughts. He was still wondering how to talk to his eldest about things. How to start really. Was it always this hard to talk the boy? Seriously? "Of course Alfred. Damian."
The toddler flipping carelessly through his old books looked up to him from the floor, grinning proudly. He was pretending he was a great scholar at the moment. Well that ended as soon as he took a whiff of the air. Before either of the men could blink the kid was out the door and running towards the meal waiting for them. Seeing his energy, both of them couldn't help but to laugh. It was always good to see the happiness on little children's faces.
"I haven't heard the garage door opening," Bruce started, walking next to the butler. "Has Dick returned home yet?"
Alfred shook his head. "I'm afraid not sir. Not that I've seen at the least."
"Hmmm…." The man took out his cellphone and started bringing up a hidden program before stopping himself.
'You just don't trust me to do it alone! I'm not a little kid anymore!'
Bruce took a deep breath before putting the phone away. Dick was just late. He didn't need to check up on him all the time. Traffic backed up and became dangerous this time of year. He was just being delayed. That was all.
He took another deep breath before joining the rest of his children in the kitchen where dinner would be served at the smaller table they used on a daily basis. Cassandra was already there, scratching the back of her neck as she waited. Alfred was retrieving Jason and Tim at the moment. Damian tugged on his father's hand, trying to make dinner come sooner in his own way.
"Sit wif me!"
The father smiled warmly at his son and obeyed the order. He wasn't always unreasonable with his kids. Shortly after settling down in his seat, both missing boys were racing through the doorway, laughing and ignoring Alfred's shouts after them to behave. Their dad gave them a chiding glare but only heard laughs from the two. Really, Jason's mischievous tendencies were rubbing off on Tim. The second youngest was even starting his own sense of style to try and prove his own independence, wearing a black hoodie with cat ears and large yellow tinted goggles whenever he didn't have to dress formally. As if Jason's leather biker jackets weren't worrying enough, now Tim was imitating Selina's other persona. At least Cass and Dick weren't trying to look like criminals even the slightest bit.
Tim took a look around, a bit disappointed despite the race he had down there. "Where's Dick? He promised he'd be here tonight."
"Still out," Bruce answered. "He'll turn up soon. He doesn't break his promises."
"Yeah, unlike certain other people…" Jason received a quick glare, making him grin impishly as he took his favorite seat. "Did I say who?"
"It was implied." He gave a heavy sigh. Jason was never going to let him forget how much he screwed up back when he was little and missed a few parent-teacher conferences. Even missed a fieldtrip back then. Everyone made mistakes and he hadn't had children for very long then either. Dick forgave his mistakes back then… hadn't he?
The teen waved it off as nothing. "Details details. What's for eats?"
Dinner progressed as usual, mostly with Jason trying to fill the empty air with words of some sort. Damian put in what he could here and there, but it was hard to carry on a conversation there without the chatterbox. Dick and he would argue and comment over the table in the past, dragging others into the conversation all the time. The two together really could liven up a meal. But without their favorite older brother, the whole room had difficulty connecting.
Tim took Bruce's cellphone about half way through the meal, without alerting his father (the kid was spending way too much time with Selina), and started working on it silently. It was a good three minutes later when the man noted the confused expression on his face and chanced a peek at what he was doing. "When did you…"
"I wanted to see where Dick was." He looked up at the man, worried. "He's far later than normal. Shouldn't he have called by now or something?"
"Probably on the road." Bruce took his phone back, returning the screen to its sleep mode. "He'll be home soon."
"But…"
At this time his phone conveniently went off. They all looked at it, knowing what that tone meant. Cass and Jason dropped their forks on their plates with a groan. Even Damian pouted when he heard it. The man looked at his phone and sighed slightly to himself. Looked like trouble was starting. "There goes the evening. Sorry."
"We're used to it." They really were. Within seconds their father left the table, rushing into the pantry and the hidden cave entrance there start his work as the League's information hub and hacking accomplice. It'd probably take all night to get whatever had started worked out. Someone was always stirring trouble during the holidays. Why would this year be any different?
Jason looked over to Tim, not really happy with the latest development. "So, where is Dickybird?"
"Didn't get to the program." He looked back to his plate thinking hard. When Dick made promises, he kept them. Even when he was busy or lost track of time, he kept them. So what was keeping him away now? With Dad gone off to work, dinner was pretty much over. It may be a movie or a TV show left before they were sent off to bed. It was getting late and the sun had set a while ago. "He better get home soon."
"He will. You'll see." The teenager gave one of his best smiles, screaming confidence. Inside he was a little worried too, but he was the big brother right then. He had to do everything he could to keep the others happy and calm. That's what Dick did for them all the time.
Way too much work. How did the guy do it?
"Thanks for the help B."
Bruce rubbed his eyes tiredly, thinking it might be a good idea to check in with an eye doctor in the next few weeks. Looking at all these screens here and at his day job had to be killing his eyes. How did Alfred go all these years without glasses? He grunted to the man on the other end. "Try to keep Sinestro off Earth Jordon. I missed out on dessert."
"How was I supposed to know he had some kind of secret base here?"
He shook his head before cutting the connection. Hal Jordon had managed to get himself caught by a former green lantern on an old military base, powerless and ready to be dissected. He barely managed to get in contact with Bruce via stray cellphone. When the man bothered to memorize his number he'd never know, but this time the guy thought ahead, saving his life. With Bruce's help, Hal retrieved his power ring, freed several human prisoners, uncovered an alien takeover plot, and dismantled it all before Sinestro could initiate any real trouble. Really, where would the space cop be without him?
The former Batman stretched his limbs out best he could in his chair before doing his usual checks on his computer. Arkham hadn't reported any breakouts since the last time security was updated (seven months ago, a new record). Blackgate also was being quiet, despite receiving a few new troublesome inmates. The corrupt cops he was listening in on hadn't yet revealed who they were on the take from, nor the locations they were detouring Gordon from yet. And as far as his computer viruses could tell, Luthor wasn't making any move towards him, his allies, or his associates yet. The baldy though was trying to buy politicians for something. It'd be something to look into later.
When he finished his checks and tasks, he looked at the clock, groaning. "After one. Hal…"
He shook his head before pushing away from the computer. Late nights didn't exactly work when he had a three year old to mind and several others who had night terrors randomly throughout the year. Jason may be much better now than he was a year ago, but what Joker did to him still weighed heavily in his subconscious mind. Both Tim and Cass had buried memories that poked their heads from time to time. And despite having dealt with it years ago, Dick even had nightmares about his parents' deaths, and the beating he took from Two-Face. Even Bruce had unwanted visions of his parents' murder and other harsh events. Time made no difference to the subconscious.
The man tiredly walked up the stairs to where his family rested. Because of the call, he couldn't talk to Dick that night. He really needed to talk to him. Not just about the issues they were having (Bruce finally admitted to himself what they were), but also about the future. The envelope with the kid's… no, young man's… gift inside, still rested in his coat pocket. He'd be graduating high school in a few months. Had he thought about where he wanted to go? What he wanted to do? They hadn't talked about it.
As Bruce treaded gently down the hallway actually holding people in it, he stopped to listen at each door. He smiled slightly at the sound of breathing behind most of them, rolling his eyes at the slight buzz from someone's computer screen being left on. Jason must have been watching something online before falling asleep. He did that once in a while. The father stopped in front of Dick's door for a moment and listened. Not a sound came through the door.
For a moment his breath halted. Not a sound. Something was always coming through that door. Screams, giggles, murmuring, soft music, a movie caught on replay, something! Unless it was empty, that room was never quiet. Never.
He quietly placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, trying to ignore the words repeating in his head from old arguments.
'I'm not a little kid anymore!' 'I know exactly what I'm doing!' 'Quit protecting me so much! I can take care of myself!' 'I'm sixteen years old!' 'I can make my own decisions!' 'Stop checking up on me!' 'You're acting like a stalker Bruce.' 'I'm fine! Quit panicking already.' 'You're not my father Bruce! Stop telling me what to do!'
The door opened and he could barely make out the outline of everything in the room. His eyes focused on the bed, making him take a step inside. He couldn't see a person in it. Bruce turned on a low intensity light, just in case Dick was sleeping and he was being paranoid, but with it on he knew he wasn't.
Empty.
"Oh G-d."
Frantic, he searched the room, nearly ripping apart the bed before checking every nook and cranny for any sign of the teen. Everything seemed to be in place, despite the messiness of it. Mentally he reviewed what he knew, his detective skills taking partial control of his actions. He remembered clearly what the boy wore earlier that day, everything from his shirt to his boots. Dick hadn't acted out of the norm either. He made promises to come back. But he hadn't, had he?
Unable to find anything in that room indicating where the acrobat was, Bruce whipped about and searched other likely locations the teen may have ended up around the manor. He hadn't come to the study or cave, he knew that for certain. The quick look inside each of his other children's rooms proved he hadn't accidentally bunked with one of them. He even checked his own bed and found it empty. Then he looked into the gym to see if he was still up and working a sweat at this late hour. No sign of Richard Grayson anywhere he looked in the manor.
Now Bruce was sprinting, not caring if he woke anyone. He even broke one of his own rules and jumped the banister to the ground floor to check one place he should have looked into first: the garage. Panicking, he flipped the switch to see inside it and looked at one spot in particular. It too was empty.
"Master Bruce?"
The man's breathing became erratic as he took out his cell phone and started up a program he should have followed through with hours ago. His wide eyed panicked state worried the butler he inadvertently awoken. "What appears to be the matter?"
"Dick hasn't come back yet." As Alfred's eyes widened next to him, Bruce worked the locator program he had, hoping the teen was on his way home or at a known friend's location. Rule 4 allowed for alone time away from the manor, but everyone was required to say who they were staying with if it were overnight. The real requirement was to keep your cellphone on and your tracer running.
And both of them were on. Just not moving nor anywhere near one of Dick's friends' places. Or anywhere he'd normally be. What was in that district? Last he knew, that part of Gotham was under construction. Then again… The signal bounced to another part of Gotham, then another. "Something's wrong with the tracer program. Scrambling it. Dammit Dick, where are you!"
"Master Bruce," the butler tried, placing a firm hand on his former ward's shoulder to calm him, "may I suggest taking a different approach? Most parents call their children before trying to use a tracer. It may be nothing to worry about. A malfunction."
"Maybe." Bruce turned off the program and brought up Dick's cell number to try a normal approach. All he received on the other end was an automated response saying the number had been disconnected. "Disconnected? That's impossible!"
"Sir?"
"His phone's not picking up." He ended the call and started on a ring of numbers connecting him to Dick's friends' families. Who cared if it was past one in the morning. He was going to find his son.
A/N: And so the search begins! really, if Slade had done this stunt a week earlier, then there'd be even less suspicion. But because he made promises and didn't get to keep them, they noticed earlier than he expected. And Bruce definitely wouldn't stop searching until he had some kind of answer. Anywho, for those who don't remember, Rule 4 is strictly a 'make it so I can always find you' rule, making it so he's not even allowed to leave planet or go to alternate worlds (wasn't there an actual agreement that they wouldn't go off like that in the comics? Wouldn't surprise me =P). and it just got broken. In the extended version I plan on having nearly every rule applied to the titles. Dickybird is a rule breaker.
And for the eyes thing, it's kinda what makes certain Dick gets a mask. Yes he will have an alias later, but what it is will remain a mystery for a while. *evil laugh* Enjoy! and see ya tomorrow!
