A/N:

Wow.

I had no clue that time was getting away from me.

It's been more than ten years since I started posting my fics on this sight. Almost a decade since I lost my mother. Eight years since I nearly died myself in a horrific car accident. More than seven years since I've shared anything I've written.

And I have been writing. IT took a while to get there, but I did.

It's been... dark, and frightening, and nothing like I had every written before and I will never share it with anyone because it hurts and exposes a part of me that is just raw and terrifying.

But I have been writing.

Recently, after a life altering five years, I think I've finally gotten a grip on this thing called life. I found Inspiration and The Muse came to visit me after so many years apart. Together, we went back to the beginning. Next thing I know, I've finished a story for the first time in seven years.

And this is it.

I hope you enjoy it, and I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

(Also, I am doing this without a Beta so please let me know if you notice any spelling issues.)

-LILY

WARNINGS:

Sex & Nudity: None

Violence & Gore: Mild; canon-typical violence against Dick Grayson by antagonist

Profanity: Severe; numerous uses of the the F*bomb, other curse words, and one instance of a racial slur against Dick Grayson's Romanichal heritage

Alcohol, Drugs & Smoking: None

Frightening & Intense Scenes: Moderate; descriptions of Dick Grayson being bound and gagged, references to past trauma that implies the hurting of a young child, the antagonist threatens (it doesn't happen) to rape and murder Dick Grayson with some details given

Betrayed

GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY

Amusement Mile Fairgrounds

July 01,2014 14:45 EST

The ten bodies in the air, more than thirty feet above the ground, were a stirring sight. The flyers moved about the platform in choreographed precision, several taking their turn in the air as they leapt from bar to catcher in an aerial dance of twists and turns. For seventeen-year-old Dick Grayson, watching the trapeze artists was bitter sweet. It brought to his mind a time when he felt the wind surround him as he flew; the freedom and thrill that was soaring at such heights.

It also was a reminder of the family he lost to tragedy.

"Not as good as you were," a voice stated from beside him.

Turning from where he stood next to the collapsed stands, Dick smiled at the familiar man. "Harry!"

The makeup-less clown chuckled around the sudden armful of teenager. "Good god, Dickie, you've gotten tall!"

"And you're still bald!" Dick laughed when the man's fingers jabbed him in the ribs. "Where's Jimmy and the others?"

Harry reached around Dick's shoulder and steered him further into the tent. "Probably packing things up. The trucks head in an hour or so."

Dick frowned, his eyes going back to the practice overhead. "I heard you were only able to book for three days. It's a shame you're not sticking around for the long weekend."

The older clown shrugged. "It is what it is. Jack was saying that we'll be setting up in Nicholasville, Kentucky for Independence Day. Should be a good show."

"Where is the old man?" Dick asked while one of the male flyers spun a double twist before reaching for the catcher. His timing was off and he plummeted into the safety net below.

"He had some business in the city." Harry was quiet for a minute as the pair watched the man in the net bounce a few times while he regained his breath. Above, the rest of the troop paused and waited for their member.

"You were too loose," Dick commented as the flyer came off the net in a practiced roll. "Tighten it up, bring your arms closer to your chest, bend your knees a little more, and you should increase your spin time. Done right you can drop into a single-handed catch and swing it out."

The man, with light reddish-brown hair and in his early twenties, scowled at the teenager. "What would you know, kid?"

Harry chuckled and clapped Dick on the back. "Ryan Vestri, allow me to introduce you to Dick Grayson."

Brown-green eyes suddenly widened. "As in the Flying Graysons?" The man turned and yelled up at his troop. "Hey, this guy's a Grayson!"

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed at the sudden attention, and stepped out from under Harry's arm. "I try to come by whenever Haly's is in town; say 'Hi' to the old crowd. I didn't mean to criticize; the round-offs were always my weakest aerial until my Uncle Richard talked me through it a couple of times."

"Nah, dude," Ryan stepped forward with his hand out in greeting. "You're a legend on the circuit. I'll take whatever tips you're willing to share! Rumor around here is that you could do a quad."

"Twice nightly and weekend Matinees," Harry crowed with pride. "People would line up to see Dickie here and his folks flying across the Big Top! A shame you're not in the business anymore."

The young man frowned. "There's a reason for that Harry."

The clown had the decency to look mortified and apologetic at his comment. "Sorry, Dickie."

"Who's your friend, Ryan?" A petite girl, with similar features and the same-coloured hair rolled off the net from which she had dived into.

"Raya, this is Dick Grayson," Ryan informed her with an air of excitement. "Dick, this is my twin sister, Raya."

"Nice to meet you," Dick offered her his hand and she took it with a stunned look on her face.

She smirked at him and shook his hand. "They still talk about you, you know."

A wry smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "All good things, I hope."

Her smile warmed in response, a beautiful expression on her features. "Mostly. Though I do believe it was Harry here who once called you the 'Circus Rat with his very own Daddy Warbucks'."

Dick rolled his eyes at the clown who hemmed and hawed beside him. "Yeah, I've heard that one a time or two. You need new material, Harry"

The three acrobats shared a chuckle at the older man's discomfort. Ryan glanced up at the trapeze rigging and the rest of his team waiting for him and his sister. He looked back at Dick with a questioning smile. "Do you still fly?"

"As often as I can," he admitted.

"You got to come up with us then!" Raya exclaimed excited, hooking her arms through his and pulling him toward the ladder. "We've got about another forty-five minutes before they come break the rig down to load it onto the trucks. You can give us some pointers!"

Dick hesitated, pulling himself free of her hold. "I don't know."

"Come on, Dickie!" Harry urged, gripping him on both shoulders from behind. "Show these rookies how it's done in the Pros!"

"Please?" Raya asked Dick, though she levelled a glare at the tactless clown.

"I'm not exactly geared up to be flying around up there," Dick pointed out, motioning to his high-end clothes. "And I'm meeting someone just after four-"

"Simon!" Ryan stood next to Dick and shouted up at the awaiting troop. "You still got your bag?"

One of the smaller guys peered down at them. "Yeah! It should be in the back!"

Ryan was all grins when he faced the dark-haired youth. "There you go; Simon's about the same size as you and his warm up gear should fit you fine. And we'll have you out of here in plenty of time for your rendezvous. Hot date?"

"Little brother." Dick chuckled. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you."

Ryan and Raya shared a look, and both shook their heads. "Nope."

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, but his smile belied his excitement. "Fine! But half an hour, that's it!"

GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY

Wayne Enterprises Offices

July 01,2014 16:10 EST

The offices of Wayne Enterprises were emptying quickly, which was no surprise. It was nearing the end of the day on Friday and the following Monday was the Fourth of July; which meant a long weekend for celebrating Independence Day. Everyone was eager to get an early start to their holiday plans and Bruce Wayne was no exception.

He was finishing up some last-minute details on the deal Lucius had arranged with Brother Industries out of Nagoya, Japan. It was a good contract that would see tens of millions profit for both companies. He was anxious to finish up the paperwork so he could get back to the Manor.

The plans he, Jason and Dick had made for this weekend would see the trio out of the city for the long weekend, plus a few extra days. They were due to check in later that night at the cabin they had booked with Cathedral Mountain Lodge in Banff, Canada. It was supposed to be a weekend of hiking and rafting and a time for just Bruce and his son – sons now that Jason had joined the family last year - like they use to when Dick was younger.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne," his secretary's voice sounded apologetically over the intercom, "but there's a Mr. Jack Haly here to see you. He doesn't have an appointment."

Bruce sighed and shuffled the last of the signed papers into the folder and pushed it aside. "It's alright, Abigail. I can spare a few minutes."

"Yes, Sir."

He was afraid of this.

Several weeks ago, a proposal had come across his desk. It seemed that Haly's International Travelling Circus had hit some hard times, like so many other businesses in the last few years. They had offered a forty-nine percent interest in the circus and wanted twenty-five million dollars in exchange. A lot of money, for something that barely kept its employees paid.

He stood behind his desk when the rotund, white haired man entered the office. Jack Haly had aged, and not well, since the last time Bruce had seen the man. There were more lines on his face and not all of them could be attributed to the passing of the years. He looked stress, tired, and all too uncomfortable in the worn, old suit he was dressed in.

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Wayne." The old man walked uncertainly forward and held his hand out in greeting.

Bruce shook it and smiled indulgently. "I've told you before, Jack, to call me Bruce."

A tight smile and small nod were his answer. "Perhaps, but as I am here on business, I felt perhaps it better to address you more formally."

"Of course." The business man motioned to a chair across the desk from him and both men sat. "Did Dick make it out to the site this afternoon? He wasn't sure he would before he was meeting my other son."

An honest smile warmed the Ringmaster's face, though something faltered in his pale grey eyes. "Yes, though I haven't seen him yet. They texted me, told me he even consented to flying with our new troop of trapezists before we broke camp. Mind you, they're nowhere near his skill level but he was able to give them a few pointers. Even after all these years, I am still amazed that Dick has maintained his ability on the trapeze."

"It's a talent I encourage," Bruce said with a smile. "He was born to fly, and I would hate to see that skill set diminish in any way. Actually, I believe he's even began to teach Jason some."

"Yes, he has always been a natural." Haly agreed "He's mentioned several times the training gym you had built for him in your home. You are a – a good father to him, Mr. Wayne. "

There was something behind the other man's words that raised Bruce's hackles. He cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his arms on the edge of his desk. "As much as I would love to sit here and drone on about Dick, you said you were here on business?"

The Circus master nodded. "Yes. I was wondering if we may speak on the proposal that I sent to your company several months ago."

"It was brought to my attention," Bruce admitted, "but my business associates felt – and I agreed with them – that investing with your organization was more risk than reward at this time. It was my understanding that a letter was sent to you explaining our position."

"And I received it," was the man's grim response. "However, I was hoping I could appeal to you personally."

Bruce frowned. "Jack-"

"I employ nearly one hundred people, Mr. Wayne," Haly interrupted him, an air of desperation in his aged voice. "Men, women, children; families who depend on me to see them through the hard times. Ever since that night we have struggled to survive financially. The bookings are no longer there; we - we travel further and longer between engagements and the crowds are not what they use to be. Even here, in Gotham, we once spent weeks sold out nightly. Now, we are reduced to only a few days and never fill more than half the seats."

"I am sorry about your difficulties, Jack," Bruce expressed, "but telling me all that just makes me more confident about our decision to keep Wayne Enterprises out of the circus business. In this recession, there's no profit in it."

"I understand." Haly all but deflated and his face fell so drastically Bruce feared he may be having a stroke. But then Haly was reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out an older model smart phone and tapped a code into it as he continued to speak, flat and resigned and grieved. "I'm an old man, Mr. Wayne. Set in my ways and not – not as stalwart as I once was. The young bloods are running everything now, it's just my name on the Marquee really, and they're not as keen in asking or in taking no as an answer."

The device was held out to Bruce and a chill seemed to fill the room at the expression of defeat and regret Haly now wore. Steady hands belying his trepidation, Bruce reached for the phone and turned it to face him. The chill he had felt settled in his gut like a lead stone when he saw the image file that had been opened for him. He had seen far too many of these types of pictures and yet they never got any easier.

Dick was kneeling inside a large animal cage with his back against the bars. His arms were stretched out at shoulder height, his wrists lashed to the metal rods with thick, dark rope. His jaw was clenched in an angry snarl around the fabric gag cleaved between his lips and his hands were fisted so tight that Bruce could see the boy's white knuckles as he had pulled against his restraints. Dick's fury was evident in cerulean eyes, even the one that was partially swollen shut from the brow that had spilt and was spilling blood down the side of his face. There were two people in the picture with him, one male the other female, though their faces were not visible. The woman held a copy of this morning's Daily Planet – proof the picture had been taken that day – while the man held a dangerous hunting knife at Dick's throat.

Several different emotions warred within him as he stared in shock at the image of his son's peril. Nearly failing to keep his temper in check he hissed through gritted teeth at the man before him. "What have you done, Jack?"

"I - I'm just the messenger, Mr. Wayne." Haly leaned forward in his seat, hands clasping together on his knees, and avoided looking directly at Bruce. "I did not lie when I said the Circus is mine in name only. I had no choice in this transaction."

"Transaction?!" Bruce roared as he surged to his feet so violently his chair toppled over and loudly into the shelves behind him. His hand tightening around the phone so much the screen cracked though the image remained. He shoved it back in Haly's face. "This isn't business anymore, Jack! This is Dick! You were his Godfather for Christ's sake!"

"You don't think I know that?" Haly wailed, lifting his head to meet the enraged father's glare. Tears were spilling freely from the man's eyes. "I was given no choice! I swear, Bruce! I – I never wanted this! Please believe, I would never have harmed a hair on that boy's head!"

"Then why is he bound and gagged and bleeding in one of your tiger cages? Why is there a goddamn knife at his throat?" Once again, the man could not look at Bruce and turned away in shame. When he gave no answer, Bruce leveled him with a glare worthy of the Batman. "Where is he?"

"I don't know where he's being taken." Haly admitted in a choked whisper. "That image was sent to me just a few minutes ago. If, after I spoke with you, you reconsidered and gave us the funding I was to notify them and they would have released him without question. But as you have not…"

Bruce wanted to leap across the desk and throttle the location from the man, but the pain and remorse he saw in Jack Haly's eyes was genuine. He wouldn't have the answers Bruce wanted. With an unconscious growl, he viciously stabbed at the intercom. "Abigail, get security in here and call Jim Gordon. Have him send some units over the Fair Grounds and to meet me there immediately, it's urgent."

"Yes, Mr. Wayne."

"They'll already be gone." Haly told him.

Unable to stop himself this time, Bruce stalked around the desk and slugged the man that once been the closest thing to Dick's grandfather. The old man tumbled out of the chair and onto the floor, his hand cradling his jaw and staring up at the billionaire looming over him. The door burst open and a pair of security guards entered the office.

"Are you all right, Mr. Wayne?" The one in the lead asked.

With one last disgusted look at the man on the floor, Bruce tossed the phone to the guard as he ran past. "He goes nowhere until the police get here. Show them that."

He could hear the moment the guard looked down at the picture frozen on the screen. "Sonuvabitch! Greer, go with him! A car and a team will be waiting downstairs for you, sir!"

It was a testament to how well he treated his employees when there was no hesitation in the second guard's step as he ran to catch up with the incensed father and into the private elevator a moment before it closed. "Sir?"

Hands trembling in rage, which could easily be misread as fear and worry, Bruce pulled his own phone from his pocket. He pressed at the screen to call Alfred and grit his teeth.

"Goddamn bastards have kidnapped Dick."

GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY

Location Unknown

July 01,2014 Unknown

For the first time in a very long time, Dick had not seen this coming. He supposed that was what pissed him off about his situation the most.

It had started with the aerialists: a handful of people he had never met before but connected with quickly over a shared love of flying unimpeded thirty feet high in the air. They'd been laughing and swinging and having a great time, some old familiar faces watching from below. Harry the clown, Thomas the escape artist, Samson the strong man, even Wilhelm the former lion tamer had been watching.

Marc was the troupe's catcher, a large man in his mid-twenties with a grip of iron. It was the smirk that twisted the man's lips as he released his hold on Dick's wrists during his last trick that first alerted the former aerialist that something wasn't quite right. As he spun around and grabbed at the second bar for the swing back, he noticed the men watching below were now standing around the net.

Too close for Dick's liking.

Then, as he swung up to the platform where Raya and her brother were standing, he felt his heart begin to thunder inside his chest. Ryan was holding the third bar like a baseball bat and as soon as Dick's feet touched the platform Ryan was swinging hard and fast. Dick attempted to duck away from the incoming strike but took the solid metal bar to the side of his head. Stars exploded in his vision and he felt the blood spilling down the side of his face.

And then he was falling.

Flashes of his parent's death eight years prior flooded his memory and he found himself practically choking on the scream that filled his throat. For a moment he was reliving the nightmare that had taken Bruce years to chase away; dreams of falling to his own death alongside his family. He was expecting the hard pavement pad the tent had been erected on, only to land awkwardly on the net.

They were waiting for him. As soon as he landed, they knocked the net supports out from beneath and he hit the hard ground a few feet below, the air knocked from his lungs. Then they were pulling him off the net and across the pavement. Between the blow to the head, the lack of breath, and the sheer terror from the fall coursing through him, he put up almost no resistance as a gag was tied swiftly around his mouth and he was dragged into an empty cage. Wilhelm and Samson crawled in with him, holding his arms stretched out to his side and in place while Thomas expertly bound his wrists to the bars.

His head had just started to clear when the two men had crawled back out. Simon, the flyer whose clothes he was wearing, had been there with a wicked grin as he tossed Dick's belongings into the corner of the cage furthest away from Dick. The cage door had shut with a resounding 'clang' and a chain wrapped several times around the latch before a padlock was snapped into place. He'd begun twisting his wrists, testing the bindings, cursing and spitting into the gag every Romani profanity he knew when he only succeeded in abrading his skin against the cords.

And then knife had been against his throat and he froze.

Harry at least had the decency to look remorseful, flinching when Dick leveled his BatglareTM at the old man as he took a picture on a smart phone.

"Get him on the truck." Ryan's voice had gone hard and commanding. It had been right behind Dick and a second later the knife was being removed, the jagged serrated edge scraping dangerously over his neck but thankfully not cutting. "It's after four. We're behind schedule and his 'little brother' is going to be waiting for him. If that old geezer does his job, Wayne's going to know we've got his fuckboy as soon as he sees that pic. If we want our money we've got to be off the grounds before he comes looking. Fifteen minutes. Move!"

A tarp was thrown over the cage, a gruff voice – Wilhem, he thought – muttering a useless apology as the heavy fabric had covered his end of the cage. He responded with a snarled epitaph that even muffled by the gag would have been easy to understand.

"Fvugh-oo!"

As soon as he was out of view, he was trying to free one of his hands or dislodge the gag; anything so he could get someone's attention outside. He had to believe that not everyone in Haly's was a part of the plot. The alternative broke his heart just thinking about it.

The trolly the cage was bolted to was moving and he could hear footsteps following not far behind him. Shifting so he was sitting rather than kneeling, he grimaced at the strain of his shoulder muscles and the pull of the ropes around his wrists when they wouldn't move, he started kicking at the bars with his bare feet. The metal clanged faintly, but it was enough that someone might hear

"Shut up." Ryan's voice snarled outside the tarp and a knife was jabbed through the bars and against the small of his back. "You've got no friends here anymore; they're not that stupid."

He hissed at the pain as the tip bit through the thin material of the shirt he was wearing and gouged into his skin. He could feel the blood seeping from the shallow cut and down his back, but kept kicking. At least for another few seconds until he heard They Might Be Giants' 'Boss of Me' suddenly blaring the pile of clothing.

Jason.

The kid had swiped his phone his last month and changed all of Dick's ringtones. "You're not the boss of me now; you're not the boss of me now; you're not the boss of me now, and you're not so big" had been assigned to Jason's name and number and the younger teen had taken great pleasure calling it at all hours of the day and night just to annoy Dick. Except the older teen had loved it and had yet to change it despite resetting all the others.

The trolly stopped at the sound and part of the tarp was lifted from the corner.

"Fuckin' assholes!" The face Dick had thought was quite pretty, was twisted into an ugly sneer as Raya reached between the bars and was pawing through the pile of his clothes. She found the smartphone and dropped the tarp back down just as the song stopped too abruptly for it to have gone to voicemail.

"You don't think something this high end can be tracked? Goddamn idiots, smash it!"

Frowning around the gag, Dick listened to the device cracking as it was destroyed. She was right, it would have been too easy for Bruce to have the cops track the GPS and even easier for Batman to pinpoint his phone's location.

He was being moved again and a minute later, after a short incline, what little light that was penetrating the tarp was gone as he was loaded into the back of a cargo trailer. He could hear other boxes and equipment being stacked on and around the cage confining him and a few minutes more the doors to the trailer were slamming and locking shut.

Gods... Dick was pissed!

It was better than lingering on the ache clawing inside his chest. He used the anger to fuel him, pulling and tugging with everything he had against the ropes that refused to give. Snarling and cursing and yelling his fury against the gag so he could ignore the sting of moisture in his eyes. He could feel the warmth of blood trailing down his extended arms, hear the approaching sirens even as the engine of the semi roared to life and he was being spirited away.

But when the first tear splashed onto his cheek, his head dropped to his chest and his struggles ceased.

He'd been through this before, too often certainly, but being kidnapped was nothing new to him; as Dick Grayson or as one of Batman's partners. Ever since he had been adopted by Bruce, and not just fostered, 'Dick Grayson' had become synonymous for 'Paycheque'. He had been eleven the first time it happened to him as Dick and not Robin, and it honestly frightened him. He wasn't able to fight back like he could as Robin; had to wait for the police or the ransom to be paid or for Batman to find him. That first year alone he was kidnapped and held for ransom as himself seven times. By the third time, it wasn't anything he was afraid of. They were always more concerned with getting their money and if they hurt him, they didn't get paid.

And honestly, nothing could compare to the first time he was kidnapped by the Joker.

Or Two-Face.

But this...?

These were people he had known since he was a babe in his mother's arms. He was raised with these people; trusted them and called them friends...

Called them family.

And they did this to him!

It hurt...

Gods it hurt!

More than the ropes that had rubbed his wrists bloody or the cut to his eyebrow. Memories of his parents were tainted now by the betrayal of those that had played prominently in them. Sitting on Harry's shoulders as he watched his family practice, too young yet to fly. Playing with Wilhem and his cats while his mother watched on worriedly even as his father laughed as Dick tumbled with the deadly animal. Watching as his mother reamed out Thomas as she unwound the ropes a then six-year-old Dick had been trying to escape. Being caught in Samson's thick arms when he rolled off the net the first few times he tried to fly and fell, excited and eager to climb the rig to try again.

They were all wrong now...

"Ow! Fuckin' hell!"

His head snapped up so suddenly the back of it cracked against the bars behind him.

"Dick?"

His brother's voice wasn't bothering to be quiet, the sound of the truck and traffic negating the need. There was shuffling somewhere on the other side of the tarp. He cried out against the gag, the worry and fear and hope bleeding through.

"Ah shit! Hang on..."

Seconds later a light could be seen through the heavy tarp as it swung around the interior of the trailer. "Fuck! Dick, where are you?"

His teeth clenched into the gag, and he curled his hand into a fist to knock against the bar it was bound to. He was pushing himself up onto his knees again, gasping as the ropes rubbed painfully around his battered wrists, continuing to knock even as the circle of light landed the tarp.

"Gotcha. I'm coming!" The light shifted and bounced as Jason moved, climbing over and squeezing through the contents of the trailer. Dick remembered all too well how packed they could fill these things. "Almost - whoops! - almost there, Dick!"

It took a few seconds more before the tarp was being lifted and Dick was squeezing his eyes shut against the light now shining in his face. He could only imagine the sight he made, blood and tears staining his face and blood streaking down his arms.

"Holly fuckballs!" Jason snarled as he let the canvas fall behind him and slid as close to the bars as he could to maneuver to the side of the cage Dick was against. "I'm gonna kill 'em. Each and every last one of those goddamn mother-fuckers!"

Dick gave a slight watery laugh as he quickly blinked the last of the tears from his eyes just as Jason was stopped beside him. The fourteen-year-old set the phone he was using as a flashlight on the floor beside him and shrugged the backpack off his shoulders. He reached through the bars and went to work on the knot keeping the gag in place.

"Before you freak out on me," Jason rushed out as his fingers slipped into the knot. "Alfred knew I was heading for the fairgrounds. Training at the Mountain was cancelled and you weren't answering your texts and Al was still at least an hour out so I took the train. I was messaging you the entire time and talked to Alfred twice. "

The gag was soon being tugged from Dick's lips and he sighed softly at being able to breathe freely. He swallowed a couple times to wet his tongue and licked his dry lips. He turned his head to the left to face Jason as much as he could while the younger boy started prying at the blood coated ropes around his wrist. "Gods, Jay! What are you doing in here? What were you thinking?"

"I got there in time to see them forcing you into the cage." The younger teen hissed when his nail snagged on the rope and ripped, but didn't stop trying to loosen it. "I wasn't - fuck! - I wasn't about to let them take you anywhere. Didn't have time to switch out to my Robin gear before they were bringing you out. So, when I saw them heading for the trailer, I called your phone hoping to distracted them long enough to climb in here and hide. And I did. Fuck me sideways! Who the hell tied these fuckin' knots?!"

"Thomas, Haly's escapist." Dick gasped when Jason's fingers slipped and raked across his mangled skin.

"Shit, sorry!" Jason briefly abandoned the knot that had yet to loosen the slightest and looked at the ropes around Dick's right arm. "This one's the same; I'm going to need a knife." He reached for the backpack and practically ripped the zipper open in his rush.

"Wait! Call Bruce first!" Dick nodded his head toward the phone on the floor. "They can track the call."

"Right, right." Jason bobbed his head in agreement before picking it up and turning the screen. Few seconds later he was setting it back on the floor as he started to dick into the bag. The phone started ringing over the speaker. It only rang once before it connected.

"Jason! Where are you? Alfred said you were heading for the fairgrounds?" The worry in Bruce's voice was palpable.

"Bruce-"

"Dick!? Thank god!" The absolute relief the sounded across the speaker had Dick leaning back against the bars and some of the tension leaving his body.

"Jay's with me, Bruce." The older boy told their adoptive father as Jason's hand came out of the bag with the utility knife that was part of the Robin's gear. "He saw them take me and decided to come to my rescue."

"Would be easier if these ropes weren't so fuckin' stubborn." Jason grumbled and took the edge of the knife to the ropes, careful and slow as not to injure Dick's arms any further.

"Where did they take you, boys?" Bruce demanded, the angry growl of Batman leaking through with the man's concern.

"We're in the back of one of the cargo trailers." Dick told him with a frown, hiding from Jason the flinch of pain as the friction of the knife caused the roped to chafe against his skin. "Still moving, just don't know where to."

"Truck was an orange and grey Peterbuilt with no sleeper cab. The trailer was three-quarter length and white with a blue mesh tarp covering the roof and sides; probably trying to hide Haly's logo on the side. No idea who's driving." The first of the ropes finally snapped beneath the blade and Jason started to unwind it from around Dick's arms. Fresh blood started running freely from the now exposed wounds "Goddamn Dick! Bruce, he's going to need a hospital."

"I'm fine!" Dick snapped over Bruce's outraged cry of "What?".

"Dick, where are you hurt?"

"It's nothing, Bruce." He levelled an annoyed glare at Jason as the younger boy removed the last of the rope and Dick was able to bring his arm to his lap. The change in elevation caused the severe rope burns to bleed even heavier.

"This is not nothing, Dick!" Jason dropped the knife and reached again into the backpack. He didn't waste a lot of time searching for the compact first aid kit in Robin's belt.

"Boys, listen to me." Bruce said curtly over the speaker. "GCPD is attempting to track your phone, Jason, and they're trying to find the truck on the traffic cameras. But it's going to take a little longer. I need to know you're safe."

"As long as the truck doesn't stop, they can't get to us." Dick told him with a sigh.

"And your injuries, Dick?"

"The gash on his forehead looks to have stopped bleeding." Jason said clinically as reached through the widely-spaced bars and began to wrap a roll of gauze tightly around the wounds on Dick's free arm. "I don't think he had a concussion, but it's hard to tell in the little light we've got in here."

"I didn't lose consciousness." Dick added with a shake of his head. "It hurts, but I've had a concussion before; I know what they feel like."

"He'll still need stitches though, it's deep." Jason tucked the end of the gauze, blood already visible through the white, and continued wrapping a compression bandage over it. "But his arms; the ropes they've tied him up with are so tight his wrists are practically shredded."

"They not that bad." Dick griped only to suck the air through his teeth a second later when the pain flared through his left arm as the bandaged constricted over the wounds, the fabric sticking to itself.

"I'm trying to cut him loose but I've only got one arm free so far, and I haven't even looked at the lock and chain keeping him in this goddamn cage."

"Richard, Jason, it's commissioner Gordon." The familiar voice of the man joined Bruce on the speaker. "We've got the phone's location and there are units not far and on their way."

"We're right behind them, boys." Bruce said and Dick could hear a car door slam. The call clicked a couple times as the Bluetooth in the car's system picked up the connection before Bruce was calling out to them again.

"We're here." Jason said as he picked up the knife and started slicing into the ropes around Dick's right arm. They lurched suddenly as the truck's breaks squealed slightly and it started to slow. The two boys shared a worried look before Dick nodded and Jason started cutting faster. "Bruce, I think we're stopping. How far out are you?"

"A few minutes. We're tracking you at the Ferry Terminal but we're not going to let that boat get out of the harbour. Just a little longer, boys."

The truck came to a complete stop only a minute later, just as Jason was finally cutting through the bindings. They could hear the cab doors open and closed, both of them.

"Leave it," Dick told Jason when the other boy reached for the arm with another roll of gauze in his hand. Able to freely move, he plucked the knife from where Jason had dropped in on the floor. "Take the phone and your bag, and hide."

"Dick-"

"You're not getting through that lock with this." Dick waved the knife for emphasis. "And if they come back here... I'm not going anywhere and I won't be able to stop them from hurting you. Please-"

"Jay, listen to him." Bruce pleaded and through the speaker they could hear the engine of the car Brue was driving rev as his speed increased. "We're not far – I promise! – and Jim is notifying the harbour police right now. We're going to get you and your brother out of there, but I need you to hide!"

The murmur of voices sounded outside the walls of the trailer as Jason hesitated. Dick reached through the bars and grabbed a hold of Jason's arm to get his attention. "Please, Jason." He asked in a low whisper. "Don't make me watch them hurt you."

Jason glared at the cheap play, but Dick could see the moment it worked. "Fine, but if they try to hurt you again all bets are off."

"Boys, I'm muting my phone on this end but I'm still here; I'm going to hear everything."

Jason gathered up his things and stuffed them back into his backpack. While he did that, Dick crawled over to the pile of his clothes and used the knife to slice his shirt into strips, using one to cover the bandage over his wrist. Seconds later he was taking hold of the padlock and faking an attempt at unlocking it with the knife.

The space beneath the tarp suddenly went dark as Jason ducked out and any light given off by the phone was gone immediately after. They were just in time as the back of the trailer was opened and someone was climbing inside. Another person was right behind the first and the doors squeaked as they were shut, thought Dick didn't hear the bang of them closing completely.

A circle of light fell onto the tarp again as a flashlight was turned on and Dick could hear the two people making their way through the cargo to where his cage was stashed.

"We'll be in Metropolis in a half hour." Ryan was speaking confidently. "Wayne's agreed to the twenty-five million, so it's just a matter of waiting the time it'll take for him to get it together."

"I get he's not going to have that kind of cash just sitting around." Raya snarked, her voice close to Dick's prison. "But is it really going to take him three days?"

"Of course not; he's Bruce Fuckin' Wayne after all." Ryan laughed, an ugly sound that send a shiver down Dick's spine. "But by giving him a reasonable deadline for the ransom he thinks he's going to get his fucktoy back."

A disgusted glare was aimed out into the Dark. Dick hated it when people said crap like that about him and Bruce. They knew it wasn't true, and their friends and family knew it wasn't true, but it still rankled him that a lot of the public thought that way about him and his adoptive father.

"You seem strangely fixated on the idea of Wayne fucking Grayson, Ry?" Raya's voice teased wickedly. "Jealous? Not that I blame you – or Wayne if it's true – that ass is a work of ar-"

The slap sounded directly on the other side of the tarp and he winced at the menace he heard in Ryan's voice. "Shut the fuck up or I'm going to put you in the ground right next to his ass."

The cover was suddenly tossed back from the cage and he was once more wincing and turning away from the glare of the light shining on his face. He made a show of dropping the knife before skittering back to the far side of the cage.

"Goddamn, Grayson." Ryan chuckled with sick amusement as he leaned his elbows on the top of the cage. He sneered down at his captive while Raya reached through the bars for the knife. "They warned me you were slick, but I thought they were all talk. Not many people are willing to fuck themselves up like you have. That's a lot of blood you're losing there."

"You have no idea what I'm willing to do to get the hell away from you." Dick snarled right back. "I won't let you use me against Bruce."

"Ah poo bear," Raya slinked around the opposite side of the cage than her brother, dragging the tip of the blade with a metallic 'tink' over each bar. "It's cute you think you've got a choice in the matter."

"So, what's the play here, Ryan?" Dick ducked away from the bars when Raya got too close, mindful of where Ryan had remained. "What's the plan to get away with the money? Kill me, sure, that's a given, but do you really think Bruce hasn't taken precaution against crap like this given the number of times I've been kidnapped? He'll pay the ransom, he always will, but none that have tried something like this have ever stayed out of jail – or the hospital – long enough to spend a single penny of it. And when you kill me? Well, there are worse things in this life than death and Bruce knows how to make them happen."

"Is that supposed to frighten us?" Ryan spat as Dick moved away from his sister again. "I'm not afraid of Bruce Wayne."

Dick leapt back when the knife was suddenly jabbed toward him through the bars. "You should-" Except he had lost track of Ryan until the man's arm was stretching through the bar and closed his fist in Dick's hair. He was yanked back painfully against the bars, his head once again cracking against the metal, a muscled arm was wrapping around his throat. Unable to breath, Dick's blood-stained hands flew up to claw at the arm the was now choking him.

"Then maybe I should send him a message," Ryan growled right beside Dick's ear, saliva splattering against his cheek as the older aerialist's words were literally spewed out of his mouth. "What do you think, Grayson? Think he'll still pay if I ruined you for him? Fill that perfect ass with my cock and spunk until you're splitting from the inside? Find out why a man like him is will to pay twenty-five million for gypsy trash like you? Or better yet, maybe I should just kill you. Right here, right now; then go back for the 'little brother'. What do you think Grayson? Think Bruce Fuckin' Wayne will pay more for the new model when he finds your mangled and bloated corpse floating in the bay?"

"Ryan, stop." Raya stood across the cage from her brother looking completely unconcerned that Ryan was strangling their meal ticket. "I don't want to have to go through all this again. You can have your fun raping and killing him later; once we've got the money."

"Fine."

Released so suddenly, Dick slumped to the floor of the cage gasping for breath. He coughed a few times and rubbed gently at the spot on his windpipe where he would soon be sporting a few new bruises. A calloused hand grabbed his hair again and dragged him back up to the bars. The shout of pain that the grip on his scalp elicited was quickly muffled with the gag that had been retrieved from the nearby floor.

"You think that's going to keep him this time?" Raya snarked watching as Ryan pulled Dick's arms through the bars until his chest was pressed up against them and started winding the longest piece of bloody rope around his wrists again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," a voice crackled over a speaking outside the trailer, faint and from a distance but none the less audible. "Due to mechanical issues, there will be a delay in our departure. We will be asking you to disembark at this time. Please remember to lock your vehicles and secure your personal belongings before making your way to the exits at the back of the boat. We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your cooperation."

"What the fuck?" Raya queried angrily, stalking away from the cage and toward the doors of the trailer. She glanced out the crack she opened and frowned. "Everyone's leaving, Ry. What are we supposed to do now?"

"Nothing" Ryan snapped with as roll of his eyes, tying off the ropes and rising to his feet. "Go with everyone else. Close the door behind you and I'll stay here and watch him."

"Except they saw you get on the ferry with me," she jeered derisively at her brother. "You were the one fuckin' driving!"

"Tell them I can't leave the cargo."

Dick huffed his frustration as he tugged habitually at the ropes. Pain flared up his arms and then through his chest when Ryan kicked the bars his torso was resting against.

"Knock it off, Dickwad; you're not going anywhere."

"Oh, Fuck!" Raya hissed looking out the gap in the door again. "Cops, Ry! There are like a half dozen cops coming this way from the front!"

"So, get the fuck out of here and close the goddamn doors!" Ryan grated through clenched teeth. They're just making sure everyone gets off the damn boat. "

"But what if-"

"No one knows where we're taking him." Ryan ordered her viciously. "Not Mac or Simon or any of the asswipes from Haly's. Nothing is going to fuck this up if you just do what the fuck I tell you to!"

"Ah poo bear," Jason's voice jeered from the shadows hidden by the stacked boxes and equipment. "It's cute you think you have a choice in the matter."

A siren started blaring through Jason's phone, the sound loud and echoing painfully inside the confined space of the trailer. Dick was cringing, ducking his head to cover his ears as much as he could with his shoulders which was very little. There was a sudden shriek from the doors and Dick glanced over in time to see them wide open now and Ray being yanked out by a pair of Harbour Patrol officers. Another two were standing there with the weapons drawn and aimed at Ryan who had staggered out into the open in his surprise.

"Freeze!"

The sound from Jason's phone suddenly went quiet and everything inside went very still. Ryan was looking from the weapons aimed his way to the captive in the cage. Dick could practically see the calculations running through the man's brain, wondering if he'd make it to Dick to use as leverage before they fired on him.

Dick's heart was racing as he locked his eyes with his abductor, recognizing the moment the man made his decision. He flinched back from the bars as much as his bound hands would allow, but it wouldn't be enough as Ryan was lunging for him. There was too many things between them and the officers that it wouldn't be a clear shot.

But then they had all, for the moment at least, forgotten about the other person in trailer.

A pair of barbed prongs, attached to twisted wires that led to a hand-held taser in Jason's hand, struck Ryan in the neck. And then the man's body was twitching and convulsing as the electric shock sent him to the floor only inches from the cage.

Slumping against the bars, Dick closed his eyes and let his forehead rest against the cool metal. He could hear Raya screaming profanities at the officers that were hauling her away, and the heavy foot falls of those that were climbing into the cargo container to take Ryan into custody. Overhead he could hear the shifting of another body and a moment later the light feet of his brother landed on the floor next to the cage.

"Dick! Jason!" Bruce's voice bellowed in the distance.

Feeling movement beside him, Dick opened his eyes. Jason was ducking around the offices picking Ryan off the trailer floor and crouching next to him outside the cage. The younger boy's fingers trembled slightly as he pried the gag once more from Dick's mouth, letting the cloth hang limply around Dick's neck. With nimble fingers, Jason was easily untying the knots restraining him this time.

"At least he was crap at tying knots." Jason joked half-heartedly, just as Bruce was pushing past the officers outside and jumping into the trailer.

Dick rewarded his little brother with a faint smile an instant before Bruce was practically throwing himself to the floor beside his sons. He wrapped one arm around Jason, much to the boy's chagrin, and reached through the bars of the cage to clutch at the base of Dick's neck. "Thank god you're both all right."

"Except he's not, Bruce." Jason said quietly with unmasked concern and pried himself out of the man's hold. "They've really hurt him."

Exhausting washing over every part of him, Dick didn't bother arguing as he felt their eyes taking in the state of his body. He heard Bruce's sharp intake of air and a hand gently took hold of his unbandaged and still bleeding arm. The ropes had once against irritated the wounds and blood that had started to slow now oozed unimpeded and dripped onto the floor between them.

"Oh god, Dickie," Bruce kept a careful grip on the arm as he reached through with his other to pet his eldest' s hair. "We need to get you out of there."

"One of those fucker's has to have had the key." Jason snarled, pushing himself onto his feet, only to stop when he heard the jangle of chains and a click of a lock.

Two of the three Waynes looked over at Jim Gordon who was quickly tossing the padlock aside and yanking the length of chain away from the latch. "Paramedics are on the wharf with a rig. They're bringing a gurney across now."

The doors to the cage were opened as wide as they could with the stuff stacked around it. It took some reorganizing and careful manoeuvring on Dick's part but he was soon crawling out of his prison and straight into Bruce's arms. He all but collapsed against the man's chest, blood staining his father's shirt as he closed his eyes. "Hi Dad."

Bruce's lips were pressed to the top of his head and, with strength and agility usually reserved for in the Batsuit, Bruce was scooping Dick into a bridal carry and rising to his feet.

The sun was still shining as he was carried out of the cargo trailer and he winced against its brightness. He was honestly surprised it was still daylight but, when he thought about it, he realized it hadn't been all that long since they'd attacked him while on the trapeze rig.

As they were escorted by Commissioner Gordon and several of his officers toward the back of the ferry, they passed the Paramedics and the gurney. Dick had to smile a little when Bruce ignored them and continued carrying his son, Jason walking protectively in front of them.

Snug against his father's chest, Dick let his eyes drift shut against the din of voices from the crowd that was undoubtedly watching the dramatic scene unfolding around them. He wouldn't be surprised if clips of his rescue made it on to GNN an even TMZ by the end of the day. Actually, he would be surprised if it wasn't within the hour.

But none of that mattered right now.

He was safe and going home with his family.

GOTHAM CITY, NEW JERSEY

Wayne Manor Family Livingroom

July 01,2014 21:35 EST

"So, they were blackmailing everyone?" Dick asked from his spot, stretched out on the couch in the family room.

He was bundled up in his designated comforter, a square of gauze taped over the gash on his left eyebrow. It had taken six of Doc Thompkins' tiny perfect stitches to close the head wound, but when it healed there would barely be any scaring. The same for his arms. There hadn't been any need for sutures to close the wounds on both his arms, and the ointments and Alfred's special salves would have them remaining infection free and healing in half the time. It regrettably meant the dressings were thick from his wrists to half up to his elbows, and required changed four times a day, but Dick would take it if it meant he wouldn't have any more scars he didn't have to hide or explain.

There had been a concern about blood loss after Dick had passed out in Bruce's arm before they made it onto the wharf. Doc Thompkins assured him he'd loss not nearly as much as one would donating blood and that it was likely the intense nature of the situation that had led to his exhaustion and fainting.

And of course, that was the image that was featured on nearly every news network and celebrity gossip website. Billionaire Bruce Wayne, pristine white shirt staining with his son's blood, carrying the unconscious and bloody teen off the Gotham Ferry. Dick was use to the attention, but he was glad that Bruce's lawyers were able to keep Jason from appearing in any of the images the media was using.

While Jason's adoption was public knowledge, he hadn't garnered quite the attention the Dick had. And Jason was perfectly fine with that. He was more than happy to allow Brucie and Dickie Wayne to pander to the media, and Dick was more than happy to do whatever he had to, to keep his little brother out of the spotlight. Including allowing intensely private and sensitive images like his rescue.

"That's what Gordon told Bruce while Doc Leslie was stitching you up." Jason was propped up on the back of the sofa next to Dick's feet, tossing the occasional piece of popcorn from the bowl in his lap directly into Dick's mouth. "Apparently Raya and Ryan Vestri used the financial issues Haly was having to turn the Circus into their own budding crime syndicate. They started using the kids first - pick pocketing the guests during the show or out in the towns they visited – then blackmailing the parents and others to keep the kids out of jail for the bigger scores. Breaking and entering, assault, extortion... you were going to be their biggest score yet."

Dick shifted his head to the side and caught a piece that had gone a little wide. He chewed a couple times before swallowing. "And for some of the guys who already had criminal records, like Harry and Samson, it would have been easy to manipulate them into doing whatever Ryan and his posse of flying thugs wanted him to."

Jason nodded and flicked another piece into Dick's waiting mouth. "Though a couple of those guys still haven't been caught yet. All ten of them were involved, but two got away clean. Guys named Mackland Tenson and his cousin Simon Utke. They've been pulling crap across state borders, so they've got federal wants for their arrests."

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to talk about this tonight." Bruce griped as he came into the room carrying a tray of drinks. Alfred was a couple steps behind him with a second tray ladened with small sandwiches, sliced fruits and veggies, and the occasional confection.

"I do not believe that is how we sit on the furniture, Master Jason." The major-domo chided, though the softness in his eyes belied any anger.

"Maybe you don't, Old Man." Jason teased affectionately even as he slid from the back of the couch and nudged Dick's feet onto the floor.

"Never too old to tan your disrespectful backside, young man." Alfred and Bruce set the trays onto the coffee table. "And after I made those loathsome cheese spread and pickle sandwiches you like."

"Score!" Both boys stretched for the platter, Dick sitting up which allowed Bruce to slip into the spot by the arm his eldest had been resting against.

The billionaire reached for a cucumber sandwich, only to snatch up one of the cheese and pickle concoctions when Alfred turned his back to the trio on the sofa. Dick and Jason were smirking at him, Jason's cheeks bulging as he chewed on a too large bite and he gave them both a wink before settling back in his seat.

"So, what are we watching this evening?" Alfred asked as he took his prepared cut of tea to the chaise that was his usual seat during their gatherings. "Nothing too violent I should hope; there's been enough of that today."

"I'm fine, Al, really." Dick assured the older man before taking bit of his sandwich and leaning back against Bruce. He didn't bother trying to stop the smile that crept onto his face when Bruce's arm lifted around Dick's shoulder to settle him more comfortably against his side. "I still say we could have kept to our original plans this weekend."

"Right." Jason scoffed, squireling his food into his cheeks to speak. "Like you were going to be rock climbing with your arms like that."

Sipping at the delicate china cup, Alfred cleared his throat and popped an eyebrow at the youngest of the foursome. He was rewarded when Jason blanched apologetically and finished chewing and swallowed.

"I think, after this afternoon's unfortunate adventure, I'm happy just to remain at the manor." Bruce said factually, if a little stiffly. He crooked his elbow, bringing his hand up to Dick's head where his fingers started carding through the strands of dark hair.

"It's not like it was the first time I'd been kidnapped, Bruce." Dick tilted his head toward the comforting touch. "And they only had me for, like, what? An hour and a half?"

"Won't be the last either." Jason swallowed before speaking this time. "Still waiting for someone to try that shi-crap with me."

"I should hope not, Master Jason!" Alfred snapped. "What your brother went through – and has gone through on too many occasions – is not something you should wish to happen!"

"And an hour and a half or not," Bruce tugged gently at Dick's hair until the elder teen tilted his head back to look up into Bruce's face. "I don't like people taking my things." Jason laughed at that and even Alfred cracked a warm smile when Bruce continued speaking. "Especially my son."

Dick felt the warmth at the truth of the statement and settled back against Bruce's side, those strong fingers once more scratching lightly across his scalp. "Not really a fan either, honestly."

Jason laughed a little longer before lounging back against the arm of his side of the couch and looked over to Bruce and Dick. "Best kidnapping."

"Ivy." Dick said without hesitation. Behind him Bruce's chest bounced lightly with his amused chuckle.

"Ah, Miss Isley." Alfred sighed and took another sip of tea. "If only all your forced excursions ended like that one."

"Wait, what?" Jason's head spun around the stare at Alfred. "What happened?"

"You were, what? Twelve Dick?" Bruce asked.

Dick took a small bite of his sandwich and shook his head as he chewed before swallowing the morsel. "Thirteen. Just a couple months before Cadmus. The night of the Vernal Equinox. Ivy had her plant-men grab me during a field trip to the University."

"Seriously?" Jason gaped incredulously. "Ivy's not one for snatch and grabs."

"It wasn't for ransom." Bruce's voice had tightened a little in anger. "She had intended to sacrifice him at moonrise, spilling the blood of a Roma Prince to supposedly awaken an earth spirit to wreak bloody vengeance against man."

The younger teen's jaw dropped. "And that was your best kidnapping?"

Dick sniggered as he finished his sandwich. "Nothing actually happened. When she started monologuing-"

"As villains are want to do." Jason interjected.

"- we started talking. Honestly, I agree with a lot of her environmental policies just not the way she goes about achieving them." Dick shrugged at the incredulous expression on Jason's face. "Seriously. And she's really smart and a wickedly dry sense of humor."

"When Batman found them just after nightfall," Bruce ruffled Dick's hair playfully. "This one was practically being petted by one of those god-awful Venus traps of hers, she was showing him how to care for a sunflower and lily hybrid they'd created together, all the while he's being fed various fruits by her vines."

"Still the sweetest and juiciest pineapple I've ever had." Dick smiled with the memory. "And they were my mother's favorite flowers. She was able to get them cross-species pollinate in minutes with her powers."

"Their fragrance is quite lovely." Alfred agreed, setting his teacup on the small table next to the chair. "And a unique addition to the garden."

"Wait, you mean those trippy purple and yellow flower bushes out by the fountain?" Jason stared past Dick and at Bruce. "And you let him keep them?"

"They're harmless." Bruce shrugged.

"Didn't think so at first though, did you Bruce?" Dick teased and poked the man in the ribs. "Had them tested a hundred different ways before you'd let Alfred transplant them. Which was rude, considering Ivy apologized and everything."

Jason chuckled and shook his head. "If that was the best, dare I ask the worst?"

Almost immediately the atmosphere in the room changed.

Dick felt a chill climbing his spine and he could hear the "fwip fwip fwip" of a circle of metal flipping through the air. Again, and again, countless times wondering if that toss would end his too short life. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to banish the sound, but before the memory could overwhelm him, Bruce's arm tightened around him and held him comfortingly against the man's torso.

"Respira, fill." Bruce's voice murmured into Dick's hair as he was kissing the crown of adoptive son's head. "Estàs a salvo. No el deixaré tornar a fer-te mal." (Breathe, son. You're safe. I won't let him hurt you again.)

"Big Bird?" Jason's worried voice asked hesitantly. "Sorry, you don't-"

"I'm afraid, Master Jason, that sometimes it is those we care for that tend to hurt us the most." Alfred's soft timber sounded in the fragile silence. "About a year after Master Richard joined our family, a man akin to Master Bruce's brother suffered a great tragedy. In his grief he blamed the wrong man and decided the best way to hurt Bruce, was to hurt Richard. Sadly, a great deal over a period of several days."

"Shit..."

It was a testament to how they had all been affect by it when Alfred didn't correct Jason of his choice of language.

Calming in Bruce's hold, Dick inhaled slowly to ease his racing heart and cleared his throat. He opened his eyes and gave his worried little brother a faint reassuring smile. "It was a long time ago and none of the abductions since then have ever been that bad. Today didn't even come close."

"Don't do that, Dick." Bruce chided softly. "Just because you've been through worse, don't make light of what happened. What they did to you physically may not compare, but you were still assaulted and tied and gagged and confined and threatened with rape and murder. I told you, I would still be listening." Bruce told him seriously when Dick tilted his head to look up into his father's face. "I heard every word that bastard said and what he threatened to do to you."

"Oh." Dick said flatly and turned away from the intensity in Bruce's eyes.

"When he was saying that shit," Jason growled and an angry shake of his head. "I wanted to come out and kick his ass. But Bruce was texting me the plan and made me wait."

"And well you did, Master Jason." Alfred commended. "The outcome could have been quite different if they not only had Richard, but you as leverage as well. As it were, your timing was impeccable and distracted them long enough for the authorities to take those sorry excuse for human beings into custody. It is because of your quick thinking that today's events were not as grave as they might have been."

"Yea, Little Wing." Dick added when he saw the young hero blushing. "You really saved my ass today. Figuratively and literally."

"Dick!"

"Master Richard!"

Jason groaned at the attempted joke and tossed a hand full of popcorn at Dick. "Too soon!"

"Oh, come on." Dick chuckled, picking up a couple of pieces from his chest and popping them into his mouth. "Nothing happened! Ryan was all talk – he couldn't even pull off a decent backend split after a pullover-whip."

"Aerialist snob," Jason mutter sending another group of popcorn across the length of couch.

Dick smirked and threw them back. "And besides, Jay was there. He wouldn't have let that asshole touch me like that."

"Damn straight!" Jason chucked a few more kernels at him.

Bruce casually batted them away. "Keep it up and you're cleaning in here tomorrow."

The fistful of popcorn paused in the air as Jason weighed his decision. After another second, he shrugged and pelted both of them with the snack. "Worth it."

A three-way popcorn fight was on the verge of breaking out before Alfred cleared his throat disapprovingly. "Perhaps, before this ends with having to have the upholstery steam cleaned again, we finish the day as we intended? As I understand it, a great number of strings were pulled to accommodate this evening's film selection."

That had the two youngest pausing in their shenanigans and looking at Bruce. "Bruce?" Dick prompted when the man just smirked and plucked a piece of popcorn from Dick's hair.

"Sean is in town working on his next film." He told them casually. "He had invited us to visit the set but I had told him we were leaving for the weekend. When he saw what happened on the news, he wisely assumed we wouldn't be going as planned and sent me a digital copy of his brother's new film. It's scheduled to be released next month but thought you might like a sneak peek."

"Wait, seriously?" Dick gasped even as Jason looked on in confusion.

"Sean?"

"Gatt." Dick said excitedly, sitting up and making grabby motions toward the remote that Alfred was handing to him. He didn't have it for long before Bruce was taking it deftly from his son's fingers. "Sean Gatt; his brother is James Gatt."

"As in the new Wonder Comics movie? Dude!" Jason looked from Dick up to Bruce in awed reverence. "You know the coolest people!"

As Bruce was cueing up the film, the older man tugged Dick back against his side. Dick settled with a content sigh when the comforting hand was once more petting over his hair. He was surprised when Jason shifted on his end of the sofa and pulled Dick's legs up onto his lap. Even more so when their eyes met and the hand on his ankle gave a little squeeze before Jason turned to face the screen.

"Hey, Bruce?" Dick asked quietly while Alfred got up to dim the lights from the panel on the wall. "If Ryan and his crew were coercing everyone, what's going to happen to Harry and the others?"

"They're cooperating with Gordon and the GCPD." Bruce answered matter-of-factly as he paused the movie with the words 'Earth 1988' on the screen. "So is Jack."

It took all of Dick's training not to wince, but by the way Bruce's arm tightened slightly around him and Jason's hand on his foot started rubbing it lightly, he still didn't completely hide his reaction. "Pop? Pop was part of it?"

"He delivered the proof of life to me personally." Bruce's voice above him was rueful and the hand on Dick's hair never paused in its movement. "The FBI is involved because they were committing crimes across multiple state lines. No matter what happens they will be charged, at least, to being accessories to kidnapping you. They'll face jail time for sure."

Which meant Haly's International Travelling Circus was finished. There would be no coming back from this for his former godfather. His mind raced to the dozens of families that would now be out of a job, a home, everything. "Is there anything we can do to help those that weren't a part of it? Those that were too scared or just trying to protect their kids?"

"The Wayne Foundation has already made overtures to those who have been affected, Master Richard." Alfred assured him. "While a handful will be beyond our aid, most of those that were being victimized by the Vestris and their ilk will be assisted to find new homes and careers according to their wishes."

Dick swallowed the lump that had begun to form in his throat and nodded. He had known from the moment they put their hands on him that Harry and the other three wouldn't be able to avoid charges. But Pop's involvement stung worse that the others.

Bruce's hand cupped his cheek and a thumb brushed away the tears he hadn't realized had begun to fall. "They made their choice Dick and they will face the legal consequences of that choice. But for all of them, and especially Jack, their greatest regret is going to be losing you."

"I know it sucks-ass." Jason chimed in softly, an air of experience in his voice. "When family screws your over, it hurts like a bitch. Least we got a new one, right Big Bird?"

With a sniff and light laugh, Dick nudged his foot against Jason's abdomen. "Yeah, Little Wing, we did. But watch your mouth before Alfred starts doling out the soap bars."

"I seem to recall a young man who was particularly fond of the Aqua Zest brand if the number of times you ended up with it in your mouth were any indication." Alfred appeared behind the sofa with the stealth only the old butler could master.

"How was I supposed to know you knew Catalan." Dick looked up at the grandfatherly man with an innocent grin that was fooling no one.

"I am versed well enough in the various Romance Languages that it was not difficult to deduce what you were saying."

"My day, it was Pears Transparent soap bar." Bruce gave an exaggerated shudder. "Nothing worked better at curbing the use of profanity."

"And yet I still feel the need to keep a few in stock." The old man affectionately clasped Dick on the shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Try not to think on today's events too much right now, dear boy. Now is the time to be thankful that today did not end as it might have, and that you are here safe and no lasting harm was done."

"Yeah, it's show time!"

As Alfred retook his seat in the chaise and Bruce unpaused the film, Dick couldn't help but feel an ache settle deep inside him. He would bury it, force it to the farthest reaches of his mind, desperately hoping and praying that he would never have to feel it again.

He had lost one family to death.

Another was now gone because of a betrayal that could not be forgiven.

At the opening bars of a mellow pop song that started playing, he leaned back against his adoptive father. With his brother still softly massaging his foot, he watched the image of a Walkman in a young boy hands fade onto the screen. And with Alfred's ever calming and soothing presence, he settled to watch an older man approach the boy sitting sadly in a hospital corridor.

"Peter."

Third times the charm, right?

"Your momma wants to speak with you."

Maybe Dick would get to keep this one.