Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations the characters find themselves in. Thanks so much for continuing to read and for giving me feedback on my work. It's muchly appreciated and I do read every review you send me!

The Art of Listening

'The art of listening is almost equivalent to the art of speaking.' Pierre Bolste

Standing in the middle of the elevator with Bane on one side, Barsad on the other, Blake amused himself by calling them 'The Three Bs' in his head. And okay, it wasn't his first name that started with a 'B'...but he didn't actually know if Bane and Barsad were both first names, middle names, or last. And it amused him-so yeah, he was sticking with 'The Three Bs' for now.

And trying not to think too hard about the fact that while normally he could take at least one of them in a fight...two, not so much. Especially when injured. But they weren't here to cause him injury. They weren't that stupid. If they were going to maim or kill him they'd have the sense to wait for a better time to do it, Blake reminded himself. This week had made him just a little paranoid, but not so paranoid he couldn't be mostly rational. Probably.

Arriving at their destination Blake exited first-he was the one who'd slow them down- and then off he went towards his door since they wouldn't have a hard time catching up with him.

Setting his crutches against the wall to free up his hands once he got there, Blake retrieved his keys and unlocked his front door, opening it up and hopping across the threshold while asking one of them to bring his crutches in for him.

Deactivating his security system didn't take long; he just had to make a mental reminder to himself to change the code once they were out because he could feel Bane's eyes on him the entire time. Which was a little irksome since he'd arranged to have his place cleaned, knowing how judgey Bane would be if things were 'messy'. He was fairly neat, but it was sorta hard to keep your place clean with only one working arm and leg. And okay, he'd wanted to impress Bane with his place, hence maybe, sorta, going overboard to make sure it looked it's best.

Though it wouldn't surprise Blake in the slightest if Bane mocked him for the two pinball machines he had against one wall. And if he did-well it was good for his hand-eye coordination, so there.

Fuck. He needed to get his head in the game.

Turning back around to take the crutches Bane offered him-and might have been holding out to him for longer than he cared to imagine-Blake thanked him and then crutched his way over to his couch, sighing in exaggerated relief once he sat down. Okay...it did feel good to be off his feet again. Goddamn knee.

"If either of you want something to drink, there's the kitchen and the fridge. Help yourself."

"We didn't come here for drinks, but an explanation."

"True. Take a seat if you want, though this shouldn't take long." Unless he really fucked this up, which he had no intention of doing.

And of course both men opted to remain standing, towering over him.

Holding in the urge to roll his eyes Blake snuggled his ass further into the couch and spread his legs out in a casual, at home sort of way. "So you want to know why, specifically, Roman is after my brother and I. Which is complicated and based on a lot of 'what ifs'."

"And your connection to the Long Syndicate." Bane stated. Like he might have forgotten.

Truth time. While being very careful to leave out the parts he wasn't about to trust Bane with.

"Our connection is through Roman's father. Who yes, was the Black Tiger. And was executed by the Long Syndicate, which is why we're assuming he came to Gotham in the first place. To confirm his father's death and possibly to get revenge on what members of the family remain."

"And hunt for you and your brother."

"When my brother and I were young the Black Tiger took us from our mother. He'd decided to take on a new apprentice and he saw 'potential' in us. Plus a built-in way to keep us in line since as long as he had one, the other would cooperate. We were good at it, and if he told his son how good we were at it, aka better than him-then he might want us very dead, yes."

It was Barsad who asked when they were taken and how they'd gotten away.

"Were there's a will, there's a way. And we were kids when he took us. Junior was already in jail."

"So Long killed him for you, and that's why you ended up in Gotham."

Holding Bane's gaze Blake neither confirmed or denied.

"The point is if he looks into the criminal investigation that took down the Long Syndicate he might notice that the lead cop had, in a roundabout way, twin stepsons. And the timing does not help. Ergo...we would prefer he be located and contained as quickly and painlessly to us as possible. Hence our-my-asking you for your help with this."

"How long were you in his custody?" Bane asked.

"Too long."

"He was killed before you and your brother were shot."

Yeah. Not going there, Sweetie, Blake silently communicated with his eyes.

"If I thought there was more info I could give you that would help find him faster I would. This is my family we're talking about. But there isn't."

"Could any of the Long family or their people point him in your direction?"

"No."

If they knew about us still being alive they'd have tried to bring them in for 'questioning' by now, Blake silently added in his head.

"Any descriptions he would have of you would describe you as a child, correct?"

"Correct."

And unfortunately, thanks to their baby faces and eternal youth, those descriptions wouldn't be that hard to match up with their current faces. Fucking amazing genes, Blake silently bitched. Biting them in the ass so much worse than still sometimes getting carded at bars and for movies. Ugh.

"It's unlikely the old man described our physical appearances in his letters to his son. If he even contacted him at all while he was in prison. And finding one of his old contacts that could give an accurate description of us would not be easy. Remotely."

Barsad spoke up. "The data I've collected suggests he did receive correspondence while in prison. Correspondence that ended about the same time that Roman's father was executed."

"Fuck." No more had to be said. That was NOT what he'd wanted to hear and Blake really wished he was up to kicking something. Or at least using a punching bag. Goddamn riot.

Especially since the fucking riot meant that his and Arthur's faces were currently over the goddamn news and internet. Because the timing of all that had to suck just that much. Fate being a bitch, as was too often the case.

"Do you know of anyone else beside you and your brother he would want dead?"

That was a good question, one he should have thought about sooner, Blake silently acknowledged. He wasn't going to give Bane kudos for thinking of it though. At least not outloud. He was still pissed at the man for ghosting him after all.

"I'd guess there's some Russians on his hit list...but no one in America, at least, comes to mind."

"Are there living members of the Long family who should be warned against speaking to anyone about The Black Tiger and his associates?"

"The ones we might, in theory, need to worry about are in prison or dead. And yeah he could find a way to get in to see them, or get a message to them, but they'd tell him we were dead. Which is to say that that's what they should say, but they didn't have the chance to find out bodies to confirm. So...they might tell him there's a possibility we're alive."

"Do the Longs want you two dead as well?"

Blake considered Bane's question. "They've never tried to find us, so I don't think we're on their radar. I mean they're pretty broken as is-killing us even if they knew we were alive wouldn't be on their to do list unless it was in connection to our stepmother destroying their organization."

With our help, not that she knows that, Blake silently added.

Bane turned his head and said something to Barsad in a language Blake didn't recognize. Which was annoying on a number of levels. But then again, so was this whole goddamn situation.

But he wasn't going to let them see that it annoyed him. They wanted to talk all top secret and leave him in the dark, fine. He had turned his cellphone to record while they'd been upstairs and Bane and Barsad had been distracted by his father and grandfather. He'd just get whatever they'd said translated later, so there.

"Can you think of something or someone that would lure him out of hiding that is not you or your brother?"

This Blake had actually given some serious thought to. "Nothing you or I could get our hands on easily. Or legally."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a couple works of art that his father always coveted but never got his hands on. Probably some Roman wanted personally, though I couldn't tell you what they were. And there's an ex-girlfriend of his he might still hold a torch for, but she's currently banging a man nearly three times her age out of his money in the South of France. Fourth marriage for him...no one's buying it was for love on either side."

"He could make her a widow. Have her and the money." Barsad speculated.

"Yeah, I thought of that. But seeing as she dumped him..." Blake trailed off, figuring Barsad would get him. Bane probably wouldn't, emotionally stunted idiot that he was, but that was just too bad. Barsad could explain it to him later.

"I'll look into it."

Shrugging, Blake didn't argue with the statement. It couldn't hurt for Barsad to keep an eye on the situation. So he gave the man her name and the husband's when he asked.

"Could he use your mother as bait to find you?"

Looking Bane straight in the eyes Blake kept his answer to that firm and to the point.

"No."

)

Interesting. That was the truth. Not that the rest of what Robin had told them had been a lie. Bane was fairly sure that everything said had been true as well. But shades of truth. Truth with important facts glossed over or left unmentioned. But in this truth Bane sensed finality. The sort that told him that Robin's mother was dead and had been for quite some time. Another piece of the puzzle that he had yet to find a place for. With multiple pieces still to find, though he would with time.

He was a patient man.

Or he was when Robin wasn't involved. Patience and Robin did not coexistence easily.

At Bane's nod Barsad went through a series of questions they'd formulated, the sort where Robin might not know anything of value but which needed to be asked on the off chance that he did. Things like countries Roman had a preference for, what languages he spoke, friends, contacts, other lovers etc etc.

For the most part Robin couldn't answer the questions, as expected. The Black Tiger hadn't talked much about his son except to criticize him. Robin did rhyme off what languages he was fairly sure Roman spoke, as well as countries he'd likely spent a lot of time in growing up, at least. Of the two other women he knew of that had apparently slept with the twat, one was dead and the other serving time in Mexico for drug trafficking.

"Any other questions?"

"Yes. How did your brother break into Bane's house?"

Ah. Yes. Very important question.

Naturally Robin made his eyes go all big and innocent as he stated that he had no idea what Barsad was talking about.

"Robin."

"Ix nay on the Robin pay."

Bane raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You can speak all those languages but not pig Latin, huh?"

Barsad interrupted. "That was not-just answer the question, Blake."

Robin's lips twitched in amusement. "Over on the table there you'll see some computer paper. Arthur printed out some suggestions about how to improve the security of Bane's home. Free of charge for helping us out."

The sarcasm was thick, to say the least, as Barsad thanked him.

Bane watched as Barsad started reading over the information, then turned his attention back to Robin as he asked if the paperwork would cover ALL the weaknesses Arthur had found in his home security.

"Probably not. Hypothetically he wasn't there to go over every inch of your flawed security. That would cost you. Or better yet, you could find Roman and call in the favor we owe you. I'd help him find every blind spot and access point. No charge."

It came as no surprise that the look he aimed at Robin had no effect whatsoever.

"I think it would be a fair trade. Right?"

"No."

He had yet to decide what he would demand of Robin in exchange for helping him-or even if he would demand anything. It would depend on how well they were getting along when the time came to settle the debt, so to speak.

There was also the fact that Robin excelled at keeping him on his toes. It would be enjoyable for the shoe to be on the other foot for a while.

"Still not going to tell me what you want, huh?"

"No."

"Fine. Then if there aren't any more questions I'm supposed to take my meds and turn in early tonight..."

There were other questions to ask, yes, but now was not the time to try asking them. He wouldn't get anything more tonight. Unless the drugs Robin had to take left him more open to suggestion and being manipulated. Hmmm.

"We're done for now."

"Good. Now do I need to see you two gentlemen to the door, or can your find your way there yourselves? I have to make my bed before I can take the drugs."

"Make your bed?" Bane repeated, seeing little point in making a bed you were about to sleep in.

"I'm sitting on it. Stairs are not my friend right now."

It took a moment for that to register. "You're sleeping on your couch to avoid having to navigate your staircase."

"Yup. And you can stop looking at me like that. It folds out into a bed." The smirk on Blake's lips was ever so slightly strained, hinting at the fact that he did need to take his medication ASAP. "It would have been easier to just leave it as a bed this morning, but I figured you'd get the wrong idea. So now I have to make the bed-unless you're offering to help me."

When Blake pointed across the room Bane turned his head to look in that direction, spotting the neat pile of bedding that had been situated in the corner on top of a bean bag chair.

Looking back at Robin, who was trying and failing to hide just how tired, aching, and strained he was as he got to his feet, obviously not expecting their help, Bane shook his head and then walked over to retrieve the bedding, ordering Barsad over his shoulder to see to the couch.

"I was joking. I can do it."

"Hush."

"Hush? Seriously? What are you, my-nevermind. I'll open it up if you get the cushions."

The three of them worked surprisingly well together. Likely because for the majority of it Robin stood quietly off to the side and watched them make up his bed for him. Not that there was much to be said since it wasn't exactly difficult to do.

"Thanks." Robin told them when they were done. "I was not looking forward to doing that."

"You could have asked a member of your family to come and help you after we'd left." Bane pointed out.

"Right. Who wouldn't call someone to make their bed for them."

The eye rolling couldn't have been more exaggerated. Though then again this was Robin. He could probably find a way, Bane told himself as he didn't bother to comment, instead asking if there was anything else Robin needed before they took his leave. Was his medication on hand, for instance?

Robin pointed towards the kitchen.

"Do you require water to take it?"

"No."

Barsad retrieved the pill bottle and brought it over, handing it over after inspecting the label.

"Thanks." Taking it Robin gave them both a 'what are you looking at' look before unscrewing the top and plucking out a single pill, which he popped into his mouth and dry swallowed while they watched him.

"The door will lock behind us?"

"That is how that particular door works, yes."

It was on the tip of Bane's tongue to use that old saying that no one liked a smart ass...but unfortunately it seemed that he did. Rather more than he was comfortable with. So instead Bane settled for telling Robin to go to bed. And that he'd call him in the morning.

"If I'm conscious I'll answer."

"How late are you planning to sleep in?"

"I'm going to be drugged. That's hard to say."

Hard to argue with that.

"Then good night."

"Night. Night, Barsad."

Barsad inclined his head in turn.

Leaving Robin to his 'bed' Bane headed out with Barsad following close behind, Barsad making sure that the door was properly shut behind them before they continued into the hallway and headed towards-

"Barsad."

Both of them paused and turned around to see Robin's cousin Simon standing a short distance away. Close to another doorway that likely led into another one of the family lofts.

"Yes?"

"You said you enjoyed my music. I'm working on something new, currently. If you're done work for the evening, would you like to come in and hear it? I could use a second opinion."