Chapter 2

Every time he'd gone to sleep, or back to sleep after a brief period of consciousness really, he'd returned to the blank expanse. Well, it might not have been EVERY time, but it was definitely frequent. It was kind of sad that he preferred the blank, lonely world to the waking world and other dreams. Nothing could hurt him here. He could walk. He could jump, cartwheel, flip and run; but he trudged ahead instead.

There was a shimmer in the distance, and he wanted to see what it was. The curiosity of the shimmer, and the hope it would lead to a friend, helped him to mute the emotions that ravaged in the waking world and his other dreams. It wasn't a healthy way to deal with his nightmares and reality, but… well, he didn't really have an excuse. He just did not want to deal with the damage, and he knew there was damage across his psyche.

So, he walked towards the shimmer, day after day, night after night. It never seemed to grow closer, and, sometimes, he worried that every time he woke up, the distance was reset. It felt like walking toward the horizon. You knew you were moving towards it, but as you went, the horizon changed minutely to a new horizon, so you never seemed to reach your destination.

After what felt like months of wandering, but was probably only a week or two in reality, the shimmer loomed over him as a sparkly barrier of colors fading in and out, but not fully disappearing. He wandered even closer until the shimmer was all he could see in all directions except the way he had come. Almost as if in a trance, he reached a hand forward into the shimmer.

As he pushed forward at a steady pace, he felt increasing resistance. Strangely, the resistance was juxtaposed with a musical call welcoming him in. Abruptly, Dick realized that he should probably be listening to the resistance, but when he tried to pull away, he saw the colors had surrounded him. The shimmer was a spider web, and he, the insect, had waltzed right into it. He struggled as the strands formed a cocoon of sorts, tightening until all he could see was the colors and he stilled.

The cocoon sunk closer to Dick and seemed to grow heavier by the minute. The colors wove themselves around his arms and legs, his chest, and his neck before covering his eyes. He felt as if the colors were seeping into his body, saturating his skin. He could barely think, barely breath, and was unable to shift any muscle due to the trembling running through his entire body. He heard the music increase in intensity, calming his body down, keeping him from complete panic. Dick closed his eyes and felt the colors sink in.

"Dick." A finger poked a sleeping form gently on the cheek. "Heeyyy. Dick. Are you done sleeping yet?" Someone small, i.e. Damian, shifted to lie on Dick's chest. "Please wake up. I miss you.

"Not-Batman says that you're in normal sleep now. But he said that yesterday. It's tomorrow morning. So, please wake up. …

"You've been sleeping for ages. It's time to wake up now… WAKE UP!" Some bats screeched as Damian's voice echoed through the cave. The little kid gave a sort of 'meep' sound, and quickly buried his head in Dick's shirt. After a few minutes of expressing their discontent, the bats quieted down. Damian slowly picked his head up again. He studied his older brother.

"Are you awake, yet?"

Dick grumbled slightly in his sleep. He wrapped his left arm around Damian, snuggling him close, but didn't wake. Damian smacked him on the chest.

"Wake UP!"

"Damian." Thomas interjected sternly. "He'll wake up when his body's ready and not a moment sooner."

"I know, but-"

"That moment will not come faster with you pounding on his chest."

"Huh? Oh." Damian wiggled in Dick's weak grip. Getting in a comfortable position, the boy popped his head up to watch Not-Batman. The man sighed and moved over to take the seat next to the medical bed. It had been interesting week. He had managed to dig out some of Bruce's old clothing to fit Damian in a free moment, but there was nothing that fit the older boy. Thomas had to make due with some old t-shirts that had been worn enough to soften up and some warm socks for his feet. Thomas had no pants that fit him, but the t-shirt went down to the boy's knees and a heap of warm blankets worked well enough to keep the main chill of the cave away from the teen.

Thomas had been too afraid to leave the comatose young teen alone for long enough to do any shopping, clothing or otherwise. Fortunately, he had adequate medical supplies and food. He even had the gunk that hospitals gave to patients that had need of a feeding tube. Unfortunately, he had no food truly appropriate for a kid to be eating, stocking mostly protein bars, meat and some vegetables. He called in take out a couple times for some variety, and more kid-friendly options, and called in sick to work for the week.

He had no clue what to do next.

It was easy to focus on treating the kids physically, the problems he could see and fix. Even making sure Damian's basic needs were met was not difficult. But what next? From what he could tell from keeping an eye on the news, no one was currently looking for them. If what the little one said was true, no one would be. At least, not anywhere they might actually find them. It was easy to ignore the resounding psychological effects that their displacement might have the kids. If he had his guess, Damian would be easier because he was too little to understand and would only really want to be played with.

Richard, though, Richard would need so much more. With how long he'd been out, and how long he was likely to need to stay on bed rest, it could be another month before he was able to walk on his own with confidence any further than the stairs. He could understand almost perfectly what had happened, or at least the basics of it, and, if he remembered his medical training correctly—and he should with how much schooling he'd had to go through—Richard would need plenty of therapy both physical and psychological to get to a stable state and adjust to his new surroundings.

He would not get that in the foster system. If they were lucky, the boys would end up together in a foster home, but there was no guarantee the foster family would be able to, or would desire to, pay for treatments, and the boy would be at best short changed, in that situation, and at worst left to flounder. The worst possibility, if they were unlucky, the boys would be thrown in the Juvenile Detention Center and separated, most likely becoming a target for bullies and any progress would be destroyed.

Thomas could not let that happen to his potential grandchildren. If they were telling the truth, and they had no reason to lie, then he had been given a second chance. A chance to get it right this time, a chance to make up for the one he lost when his son died at eight. Damn it. They had already grown on him. Oh, Thomas would try to find the boys a way home to their father. He knew too well the heartache that came from losing a son, and losing two would be a double whammy. But that would take a while, and he couldn't send the boys through before they were healed. If something went wrong, they would be doomed!

So, Thomas Wayne would adopt two new grandchildren into his family… Just as soon as his eldest grandson awoke from his coma…

"Not-Batman?" He heard.

"Hmm."

"I keep saying your name, but you won't answer me!"

"I'm sorry. I got lost in my train of thought. What were you saying, Damian?"

"What's going to happen after Dick wakes up?" The young boy looked at him beseechingly from his safe spot within the circle of his brother's arms.

Thomas sighed, studying the boy's face. "That will be up to the two of you and, I suppose, me. I won't do anything drastic without your input, but with your brother being at the age you say he is at, I can't very well leave him out of a decision. For now, you two are safe here. No one can get in by any conventional means without me knowing, and once I find out how you two got in here, I'll close up that route as well so no one can follow."

"Umm. There were a lot of big words in there, and English is not my first language."

"It's not?" Thomas felt a tingle of surprise run up his back, and was glad the mask hid his expression. "But you said Bruce Wayne, your Batman, was your father? His first language was English."

"Well yeah, but my mother had me, or some of her agents did, until I got stolen by the Bluemen. She was Arabic, as was my Grandfather. She told me about Tati, but I never got to meet him." Damian's eyes went a bit unfocused, and he snuggled a little deeper into Richard's chest. "Dick's a better person. He's a good brother. He and Alex had me when we were with the Bluemen. They always play with me, and give me sweets, and didn't hurt me like Mother and the Bluemen."

There were a lot of points Thomas could take a gamble at in there. It sounded as if Damian had been abused even before he was kidnapped. There was clearly more to the situation than meets the eye. It would probably be better to get the details from Richard when he woke up and could talk about it.

"Alex?" Thomas decided to ask.

"He was our roommate, friend, somewhat brother person. He painted the walls. They were pretty."

Thomas grunted. "How about you take a nap with your brother there and I'll go order some pizza?" He paused. "You do know what pizza is, right?

"Pizza? That's the circle bread with tomatoes and cheese? Alex told me about it. Dick said to get… to get…" Damian trailed off, dropping his face into his brother's chest as the older boy shifted slightly. Thomas ran a hand along Damian's back lightly.

"How about I just get cheese?" Damian gave a little hidden nod and a soft okay. "Stay here until I get back please. And shout if anything changes with your brother."

A/N

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Glasgow Coma Scale:

Eyes: Score of 1- does not open eyes

Verbal: Score of 2- incomprehensible sounds (mumbles)

Motor (physical reflexes)- Score of 6- obeys commands

Overall Score: 9, a little biased because he's sleeping. Still in Moderate Brain Injury category