Batman sat, hunched over his desk, glaring at his computer as if it was all that was wrong with his world.
He was tired from patrol. Gotham had always been a challenge but he had grown more and more tired over the years. It wasn't the physical reality of aging, he knew he could remain Batman for at least another decade barring a major injury, no, Batman was exhausted from the past few years. He hadn't slept well in a long time, and had long since learnt to go without sleep. He couldn't rest, not yet. One month until it would be five years without his son. His Richard. His little bird. Still searching, still no trace, no clue, nothing.
"Batman you aren't still searching for Dick are you? He's gone and he's not coming back. You need to let him go." Batgirl's voice resounded around the room.
Tired.
They all had been so tired. Not since the invasion had any of the so-called bat-family, gotten any real rest. Batman was constantly searching and the rest...plagued by guilt, even Damien felt his heart constrict slightly when he thought of the first Robin.
Batman ignored her comment bristling slightly at the audacity she had to say that. looking through every file he had related to his search. How dare Gordon wish to forget Richard, how dare she want for a difference than this. She had been the worst, she may be one of the reasons… He would ignore her, just as he ignored all the others.
Batgirl sighed and walked to the entrance of the cave, before exiting she stoped, "Even if he's alive he may not want to come back. If anyone could disappear like that it would be Dick, he probably just wanted a quiet life, you need to stop thinking the worst, if he's out there he's fine." The red head looked back to the dark knight, knowing her words had no effect. She left, tired of the stubborn man.
Batman ran a hand over his face tiredly. He knew what they all said could be true. He knew Dick could have just left in search of a normal life, but he didn't.
Call it a father's intuition if you will, but Richard Grayson didn't choose to disappear. He had every reason to, but he wouldn't. It simply wasn't in his character to leave like that.
Besides the videos, the recordings of Nigtwing during the invasion, the ones that took him a whole year to find and another two months to hack into, the ones showing Nightwing's plan and his pain. They demonstrated Nightwings enduring loyalty.
He couldn't have left. Wouldn't have left. And even if he did, Batman owed Nightwing, the entire Justice League did. They owed it to him to make sure he was alright.
Irrespective as to whether Nightwing left or was taken, Batman had to see him. Bruce had to see Dick. He had to see his son, those videos broke Bruce's heart, and made Batman angry.
Batman would never give up on his son.
Without warning Batman's computer had lit up, numbers filled the screen, the firewalls fell.
Batman was being hacked, and what shocked him was that he couldn't stop it.
The numbers stopped and the screen goes back to normal, but that isn't what has Batman's attention, no it was the speakers near him crackling, the hard breathing he could hear coming from them.
Then a voice Batman hadn't truly heard in over to five years came out of his speaker, "Dad...please help. I'm scared dad, I don't want to die alone. Please I'm sorry for everything, don't hate me. Dad..." The voice sounded so weak and broken, so lost and desperate it shook Batman to his core.
Someone had hurt his son.
Batman acted quickly. He traced the hacker to find the location, grimacing slightly at the brutal handiwork his son had done to his security systems. Richard had made it simple, clearly waiting to be found.
The young man's words echoed around in Batman's head; 'I don't want to die alone'.
No he wouldn't die alone.
He would die at all, Batman promised himself. After triangulating the location he ran to his airship, desperate to find his son in time.
He sped to the location, his jet flashing through the air. Batman noted the location once again, he wasn't even far!
An hour later Batman landed in a freezing mountainside, he exited his ship and followed his computer to the opening of a cave. He felt nervous he realised. He didn't know what to expect, or what he would say at this moment. He had been waiting to see Richard again for over five years, it was surprising to feel so anxious.
He entered the cave and Batman was greeted by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life. His son's crumpled body leaned against the ice wall of the cave. His skin paler than parchment, his breathing shallow, so terribly shallow. Blood, bruises and scars marred his skin, and his bones sticking out at strange angles. The outline of ribs is obvious as the skin stretches to cover the bones and the thin damp shirt Batman knew would do nothing against the cold. His son looked like death.
Batman ran over and knelt next to his broken son. He cradled the body and too off his cape, using it to wrap the frail body, trying to warm his sons still, cold form.
"Richard, it's ok now. You're safe, it's ok." The hero whispered to his fallen protege, hoping to convince himself of the words.
"Dad?" his eyes fluttered but failed to open, as if it took much to do even that.
"You came... Please don't leave." The young man rasped, desperation clung to his words. Richard had never sounded so terrified in his life.
Batman felt sick to his stomach, the very thought of abandoning anyone, let alone his son, when they were in such an awful state made his feel ill. The pitiful form whimpered, a weak hand stretched out, as if he was trying to hold Batman there, with him. As if ensuring he was not dreaming- or perhaps already dead.
"No, I'll never leave." The dark knight promised as he picked up the crumpled body and carried him to the ship and set in the course for home, the autopilot doing its job while Batman moved to begin the impossible task of healing the broken man.
"Hold on Dick, we'll be home soon."
Whilst in the air, the hero took a break from the gruelling task of clearing the blood that slowly cried from the cuts.
Batman called his most trusted confidant, "Master Bruce, I must ask why you have left with the aircraft, I don't believe any major disaster is occurring." An old British voice came from the other side of the call filled with concern.
"Alfred, I found him. He's hurt...Call Leslie and prepare for the worst, I don't know what happened but I know it's bad, broken bones, cuts, burns and so much more. God Alfred, I may have been too late. "
"You found him!" the normally calm and steady butler's voice cracked, with both joy and trepidation. To find him just to lose him, surely fate could not be so cruel. "We will prepare for your return, should I inform the others?" Alfred asked.
"No, he doesn't need that when he wakes. No just Leslie, I don't want anyone else knowing." came Batman's bitter reply. He did not want for the others, not even his other protege to know...to see Dick in such a state. Especially after what they had done to him. Dick didn't need to deal with them when he woke up, he needed to heal, not listen to their childish hurts nor their petty grudges. They didn't even know what Richard had done for them.
Dr Leslie had never felt older in her life. Thirteen hour surgery on a boy she saw as a grandson, and still she couldn't tell if he was going to be alright or not.
When Alfred had called her she had been filled with hope. The little boy she knew would be coming home, yet reality slit her reality, her hope pouring out of her when she examines the boy's wounds. He should be dead. That's all she could say professionally. The body that Bruce had brought her had been broken beyond anything she had seen. It was not fixable. It shouldn't be intact.
Her medical mind screamed at her, telling her that whatever had been done was permanent. But her heart had cried louder, begging her to try. The poor child was broken.
Bruce looked near a wreck as he and Alfred worked with her. Each desperate to stitch back the wounds, make the strewn flesh and pat work of skin look human once more.
Alfred was better at hiding his feelings, but when they all finished. When Leslie had thrown in the towel saying that any more work done would stress the body into a shut down that he would not-could not recover from, the widened man began to cry in earnest. The other occupants in the room could count on one hand the amount of times Alfred had cried in front of anyone. This only added to the seriousness of the situation. Richard Grayson was not in a good way.
Bruce looked more defeated than he ever had, the worry lines seemed to have deepened despite his new found knowledge of his son's location. None wanted to leave the boys bedside. Yet they all had things to do, and discretion required their continued appearance for the public's benefit.
Leslie was the first to move. She was due in Washington for a conference regarding children on the street. She moved quietly from the room, requesting that she remain updated on the young man's condition, and that the remaining two keep out of trouble.
Batman had to become Bruce Wayne again. He needed to run his enterprise, and play the part of a distraught parent. The world could not yet know of Richard Grayson's return. Batman would have to create a plausible story for the sudden discovery, once Richard woke up of course.
Alfred had to return to the manor, his disappearance would have already been noted, and he did not need to be explaining to his other young charges as to why he and Batman had left in the middle of the night, after patrol had finished.
Yet they couldn't leave him without supervision. Someone needed to make sure there were no more complications. "I'll call Jason. He'll already be annoyed I left it this long."
Jason Todd was in a bad mood. The drug circle he had planned on breaking up last night had turned out to be exponentially larger than expected, and had left him with bruises and three broken ribs that would leave him out of full time work for weeks. Not only that but someone was calling him in the middle of the day. He was meant to be sleeping dammit!
Sluggishly opening his eyes he squinted against the light of his phone in the dark room he was in.
Caller ID:
Manic Depressive Asshole
Swearing under his breath the disgruntled man contemplated ignoring the call. Wouldn't be the first time. But something made him stop. Bruce never called unless it was an emergency- in which case Todd would most likely roll over and go back to sleep.
Or it was about Grayson...
Grayson.
An image of a smiling teen holding out his hand in greeting entered his mind. Followed by several others of the boy flying through the air, or smirking as he was up to mischief.
Rolling his eyes at his own sentimentality Todd pressed the answer on his phone. "Jason...I found him. He's not in a good way. Come to these coordinates." and with that the gruff voice of his former mentor left him and he felt his phone buzz at the arrival of the coordinated.
The phone call finished and Jason didn't know whether to feel happy that Dick was back or annoyed that Bruce was being Bruce.
Bruce was still a controlling asshole that loved to order people around. But Grayson was back! He was back but not in a good way...What the hell was that supposed to mean!
Jason sighed and began to redress, after all, going out as Red Hood (which he had been too tired to change out of) would surely bring attention to himself. He had a feeling that that was the last thing he, or Dick needed.
Leaving his small apartment in a grey hoodie and old jeans, checking first for any paparazzi. Ever since he made an unsteady peace with Bruce in their efforts to find Dick the paparazzi had been hounding him. He was the prodigal son of the illustrious Bruce Wayne, who was helping search for his missing (and the official story was kidnapped) older brother. The reporters saw him as an enigma, who would leave a billionaire's home, only to return to help find the older brother that stood to inherit it all?
Yet another reason to be pissed at Bruce, the paparazzi were animals.
The young man walked into the street in relative anomaly, the paparazzi hadn't found his most recent hideout. Climbing onto his deathtrap of a motorbike, he checked the coordinates that Bruce had sent him. - It wasn't the Manor. Nor any of Batman's known locations, certainly wasn't in the archives of the watchtower.
Jason Todd smiled to himself, still the Batman that seemed to live to piss people off. If he remembered correctly, Batman had promised the founding members of the League that all of his locations were online now. Sometimes his paranoia seemed to pay off.
Driving three miles out of Gotham and into a secluded part of the countryside he arrived at a shanty looking house. Outside was Alfred's beat up old Buggie, the one he used for personal business, or if he needed to be under cover from Batman's little protégés. Knowledge that only Batman, Dr Leslie and Dick were aware of until Grayson went missing and Jason was told that tidbit of information. Same old Alfred.
Moving toward the house he was greeted by Alfred who was leaving.
"Master Jason, I am glad to see you. Master Bruce and Master Richard are in the building, turn right and then enter the usual passcode into the fridge. And Master Jason...do try to keep your temper. Richard does not need that right now." Nodding is acceptance Jason moved past the older man, following the instruction and entering the elevator that appeared once the code was entered into the fridge. Stepping inside he inhaled, and held it before releasing.
He was nervous... Scared shitless if he was honest. If Alfred sought to warn him, it must really be bad.
The elevator stopped with a thump, and Jason left it. It opened to a large living room and kitchen. A few doors were attached, leading to other rooms, the one on the left was open, he assumed was where Richard was. The safe house was certainly not what he had expected. It was large and well prepared, and seemed to have been used recently. As if Bruce had been expecting to have to bring someone that would need an extended recovery or hideout period.
Shaking his head he cleared himself of these thoughts. He was here for Dick, not to psycho analyse the madman that walked around in a bat suit at night...though he was no better.
He moved to the open room, on entering his breath left him. Grayson looked like he had been in a bus that had been on fire, then smashed into another bus while falling from the sky and being crushed by a plane.
In short he looked awful.
Once Dick had told him what he had looked like when he was dead. Jason Todd was pretty sure that Dick looked worse. He should be dead.
Someone was going to pay.
Thank you for reading, I am terribly sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors.
The characters will be slightly different from the comic book versions, as will the timeline and events. I'm going to pick and choose some different events, and create some of my own. I hope you enjoy and will give me positive feedback.