Synopsis: Someone has stolen all the money from the Wayne Foundation Youth Charity Fund. Batman and Red Hood go after the man who did it. While doing research on the thief, Tim is hit by a mysterious beam from an odd weapon sitting on a shelf and is de-aged. Oh boy, what are they going to do with a four-year-old Tim?

Part 14: Fighting Back

Tim examined his wrists. There had to be a way of getting loose. Zip ties were made of plastic and plastic could be twisted out of shape.

'Maybe if I were to work my wrists,' he thought. 'I'm still a Flying Grayson. I should be able to do this.'

Tim held onto the rope and pulled his feet up to try to get some slack. Tim started twisting his wrists, trying to get the zip tie to bend and hopefully stretch enough to release his hands. He must have worked the zip tie for at least fifteen minutes. I was getting lightheaded from hanging partially upside down, but the zip tie was starting to give. Even the rope was starting to loosen.

"Hey Silvester," Booster called over to his partner. "Your boy over there looks like he's trying to get himself loose. You better check on him. I'm trying to figure out our next move."

Silvester walked over to the boy. "Boy, you better be trying to make that damn rope tighter!" Silvester yanked him down, so he was hanging again.

"Ahhh," Tim cried out, from the sudden jolt.

Then Silvester pulled out his knife and gave him a quick cut across the chest. "Do that shit, again and I'll gut you, boy! Your father will be getting back a corpse!"

Tim tried to twist his body and kick the guy in the face, but it was ineffective. 'He's not my father, he's my brother,' Tim thought. 'And you don't want to mess with him if he gets mad.'

Silvester punched the boy in the stomach. "You should check your anger. Ha." Silvester walked away.

"Ughhhh . . ." Tears sprang to Tim's eyes. He forgot he was not in an 17-year-old body. ". . . RRRRRR . . ." Tim tried to growl through the gag. He was aware that Christina was watching him. There was fear in her eyes, but not for him, but what they would do to her or him. Tim didn't care. He fought such scum before. Tim could handle them, at least before this. Tim kicked his legs trying to get purpose, trying to twist his body. He wasn't going to give up no matter how many times they cut him. I've had worse done to me than this.' Tim continued to swing. ". . . RRRRR . . . " He needed to gain momentum to try to swing up to the bar. 'Come on, Timoti, you can do this.' Tim heard Dick's encouragement in his mind.

"I don't think you convinced him Silvester," Boozer said. "That kid if I didn't know any better, I'd say he fights like one of them capes. He isn't scared of you."

Sylvester picked up a pipe that was laying on the ground. He walked over to the boy and swung, hitting him in the stomach. He was still fighting so Silvester gave a few more hits. The pipe landing on different parts of his body leaving bruises. With the last hit, Silvester heard a satisfying crack.

"Ughhh . . ." Tim tried not to cry out but with that last hit, he could feel his ribs give way. Tim at first tried glaring at the guy, daring him to hit me again, but the pain was causing him to almost black out.

"You're a fighter kid. Too bad you're a rich brat." Silvester gave a few more swings to him. "It's like beating a pinata."

"You know, a dead kid pays less than a live one," Boozer mentioned. "His Dad is going want proof that he's alive."

"I think he's had enough anyway."

Tim stopped struggling. Blood seeped from his mouth, along with silent tears.

While Tim was being hit, Samantha became aware of what was happening. She was sitting in the nursery with Sasha when she felt a jab of pain. It wasn't from her aura though, it was Tim's. 'Someone must be beating on him.' Samantha rushed from the nursery to find Dick.

Tim felt more of his ribs give. One of the ribs might have punchered a lung. Blood was soaking through his gag. Christina had a pleading look in her eyes. 'She's scared. Very scared, that I might die,' Tim sagged against the ropes. He didn't want them to win, but his vision was blurring, and it felt like he was going to pass out. Tim let his body go limp. It was hard to breath with his broken ribs. Tears stung his eyes.

'I want my brother. I want to go home.' For the first time, Tim was really feeling like that four-year-old.

Continues with Part 15: Rescued