Gifts From the Sea, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

Batfam Bingo 2019: AU: Zoo

Chapter 25 - A Satisfactory Purchase (rough draft 2)

Gotham was a foul city and Talia would normally have left an ordinary mission like this to subordinates. However, when something concerned the wellbeing of her child, she would rather oversee things in person, thus did she now find herself subject to the oily negotiations of a distasteful man called Barnabas Holt.

"Ah - I am deeply sorry, Miss Al Ghul, but I'm afraid we don't have any little ones available at the moment. However, if I could interest you in-"

"You told me you'd recently procured a pup," she said icily. The whole reason she'd come in person was so that she could inspect the selkie pup for herself before purchasing it, but if the only productive thing they'd get out of this visit was taking down these vile poachers, she could have let her men handle it.

"Ah - I'm afraid there was a little misunderstanding-"

"Show me your wares," she demanded.

"Certainly, Miss Al Ghul."

Holt led the way through his filthy warehouse where the poor creatures in his inventory either cursed at the newcomers or shrank back in fear.

A couple of thugs were idly patrolling, but off to the side, an unarmed woman was standing beside an open cage, shouting at a bound captive who lay on the floor. He shouted back, and she drove her foot into his gut. The action was repeated twice more as Talia was registering the fact that the abused creature was small, a pup, and then her voice was ringing out in command: "Stop!"

The other woman's head came up, her expression fierce.

"Sheila, dear," Holt said in a very strained voice, his smile tight, "I thought you were taking him to the back."

"I will when I'm done," Sheila snapped.

"Holt," Talia said in a tone that prompted him to bow repeatedly, "you lied to me."

"Ah, I- If you recall, most honored madam, I said there were no pups available for sale-"

Talia didn't hear the rest because Sheila had started kicking again, circling around when the pup curled up in an attempt to protect himself. Talia strode forward, using her own foot to hook the pup out of the other woman's reach and shove him back behind her. She planted her foot on his back and faced down his tormentor challengingly. "I am purchasing this creature. Touch him again at your peril."

"He's not for fucking sale," Sheila snapped.

"Holt," Talia called without breaking eye contact, "how much?"

"I'm very sorry, Miss Al Ghul, but I'm afraid that's one's not-"

"Alternatively, I can take him at no monetary charge in exchange for ordering my men to not raze your operation to the ground."

Sheila shrieked in outrage, but Holt gulped and then named an outrageously high price.

"Done," Talia said at once. She would get the money back soon enough, and probably more besides, when they dismantled the trafficking operation and seized control of their assets.

Sheila came at Talia, but had barely taken two steps before a ninja calmly nerve-struck her and she dropped to the floor.

The pup was squirming under Talia's boot. "Get the fuck off me, bitch!"

Talia removed her foot, only to use it to push him toward one of her men as she nodded. The pup started struggling to rise but screamed when a needle entered his flesh. "No! No! You can't, my dad will fucking ransom me, just call my dad and he'll pay to get me back, please, you can't do this, please...!"

His panicked, tear-streaked little face was hard to look at, so as Talia waited for the sedative to take effect, she inspected the rest of him. Although he wasn't exactly clean, he didn't seem dirty enough to be homeless, and his clothes, though simple, were from an expensive brand, which increased the chances of him being in good health. His pelt, which had taken the form of a bright red hooded sweatshirt, was pristine. The hood had been taped down, probably to prevent the pup from transforming and escaping his bonds.

"Please," the pup begged, whispering now as he fought sleep. "My family's looking for me. They're rich, you don't want to piss them off. Please, I'm worthless and these conmen are just ripping you off, please...I can't...I'm worthless..."

Talia laid a hand on the side of his face and stroked her thumb across his soft, damp cheek. Not even a twitch of reaction; he was out. She straightened and nodded to her men, who picked up the selkie and took him away.

In the car, Talia cut the restraints on the pup's wrists so she could remove his pelt and then the tape that restricted it.

"My lady," the ninja on her other side spoke up, looking up from her phone, "local law enforcement has mobilized much faster than we anticipated. Apparently this pup belonged to an influential family and someone connected his abduction to the trafficking ring."

"Move up our timetable." They would need to extract whatever spoils they could to please her father before the locals descended and finished the job for them.

"Yes, my lady."

Talia returned her attention to the garment in her hands. She concentrated, and after a moment, the sweatshirt sluggishly shifted to its true shape, looking like a cloak made of auburn-and-brown fur. It was unusually resistant, suggesting that it did not change shape often.

No matter; it was a very fine specimen, and would work quite well for her research. All things considered, she was glad she had come.

TBC

Gifts From the Sea, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

Batfam Bingo 2019: AU: Zoo

Chapter 26 - Stripped (rough draft 2)

Jason had never been so scared in his life. Maybe it only felt that way because he'd finally thought he was safe or something, but right now, being pinned down on the dirty floor of a van as men cussed at him and tied him up painfully tight, it felt like he'd never been more scared in his life.

He was being restrained so hard that he literally couldn't move, but he cussed back for all he was worth until they taped his mouth shut.

At last they let go of him, when his arms and legs were bound and he almost hurt too much to move. He groaned and moved anyway, forcing himself to roll over and sit up.

He leaned back against the side of the van and glowered at the two thugs, who grinned back at him and threw a slew of insults at him until they tired of that and started playing phone games.

Jason fiercely resisted his tears. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been held captive. This time, though, he knew what he was in for, and he felt sick as he thought of the cage that was coming, and the screaming and crying from other captives, and...when eventually he'd be cut into pieces, because most people who wanted slaves wanted mer, not seals, and he was no good to anybody alive...

He'd been- he'd been good to Bruce alive. Bruce had...wanted him. Bruce had been...so gentle, always, both before and after he found out Jason was a freak, both when Jason had been cute and furry and when he'd been not cute at all.

Jason shivered and couldn't hold the tears back anymore. Bruce...cared about him, he couldn't deny that. Bruce was always, always saving him, since the moment they met. Maybe...maybe Bruce would save him this time, too...

That bitch had hurt him, though. The gunshots had started up and Bruce had freaked out, engulfing Jason with his body so that Jason felt safe from stray bullets but also kind of smothered and panicked because he couldn't move. Bruce hadn't responded to anything he shouted, either, and then Sheila had bashed Bruce over the head and there was blood, and Jason's human shield had slid away.

And then Jason wished he was still being smothered because then those thugs had come and dragged him, taken him away from his dad, thrown him into this fucking textbook Stranger Danger van and tied him up, they were going to kill him and he'd never see his...family...again.

Jason was sobbing now, struggling frantically to stop because the fucking gag and all the snot in his nose meant he couldn't fucking breathe.

He nearly suffocated to death right there in the van, and when it stopped and they dragged him into a warehouse and ripped off the tape, he was too grateful to fight when they cut his bonds and threw him into a cage.

It took him a long time to calm down. When he finally raised his head, exhausted, he found the familiar sight of a dim warehouse filled with cages and tanks, a couple of guards playing cards in the middle.

The woman in the cage next to his, noticing him stirring, murmured, "Hey, kiddo."

"How often do they come for us?" Jason asked.

She shrugged. "Depends. Sometimes we lose two or three a day, sometimes nothing happens for a couple of weeks." She squinted. "You got transferred or something?"

"I escaped last time. They caught me again," Jason said miserably. " 'Cause of that bitch."

The woman's face twisted. "She's a seal, too, you know," she growled. "Fucking traitor turned human, sniffs us out and delivers us right into their hands."

"I know!" Jason exclaimed, sharing in her rage. "All she had ta do was sign the fucking papers, but she tricked my dad and now...and now...!" He grew too choked up to speak.

"You miss your dad?" the woman asked, her voice softening.

"He's not really my dad," Jason sniffled. "Jus'...jus' some random guy who saved me when they stole my pelt, an' saved me again when I got stuck in a trap, an'...he knew, but he was still so nice, he...he was gonna adopt me, but she wouldn't sign the papers and then she stole me, right outta my dad's fucking arms...!"

"Ssshhh, honey," she crooned as he cried again. "Ssshhh."

"She hit him," Jason choked out. "I hope...he's okay...he was bleeding, she knocked him out...I hope he's okay..."

That night, Jason jerked out of a doze when he heard the warehouse door opening. The captives stirred. The guards looked up, and Sheila gestured with her head. They all sighed and complained, but hauled themselves to their feet and followed after her. They made their way down the cages and stopped in front of Jason's.

"Whaddaya want, bitch?" he snapped, glaring.

"I'm going to watch while they cut you up," she said calmly.

"Fuck you!"

The guards opened the cage and dragged him out. He fought, but they easily overpowered him and tied him up. "Why are you DOING this?!" Jason screamed at her. "I didn't do ANYTHING to you! I didn't do anything! I'm not him!"

"Give me a minute," Sheila snapped at the guards, who backed off and moved so they could see the TV again. The woman glared down at Jason. "Why the hell did you come to that meeting? Wasn't it obvious I never wanted you?"

"You were supposed to sign the papers! That's ALL you had to fucking do!"

"Why the hell would anyone want to adopt you? He didn't need papers to do whatever he wanted to fucking do with you."

"He needed papers to be my FUCKING DAD, that's what he wanted to do with me, you psycho!"

He wasn't prepared for her foot to embed itself in his gut, and the air was suddenly forced out of him. He was still wheezing to get it back when it happened again, and then again. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated as hard as he could on getting air to his lungs.

"STOP."

There were voices; Jason didn't bother listening to them. He was trying to remember how to breathe, trying to keep the damn air in his lungs so it had time to do its job before skittering back out.

He'd only just managed it before he was kicked again. He curled up, trying to protect his stomach and chest, and flinched at the next blow.

Except this one was more movement than force, yanking him across the floor. A moment later, a weight hit his back, not hard enough to be painful but firmly enough to press him into the floor. It took him a second to realize she was fucking standing on him.

...It wasn't Sheila, though. It was some other bitch who talked like she thought she was a queen.

Maybe she was, if she could afford to pay that much for him.

He squirmed in alarm, not sure whether it was worse to stay in this hellhole where his own mother wanted to cut him up, or to go with an owner whose plans for him were a complete unknown. It was entirely possible he'd been bought as a culinary delicacy. "Get the fuck off me, bitch!"

To his surprise, she did, but only so her people could stick a needle into him. He panicked, but the drug was inexorable and his new owner was completely unmoved by his begging. He cried as he lost consciousness, wondering if he would ever wake up.

o.o.o

He did wake up, eventually.

The first thing he noticed was that he felt naked. He wasn't literally naked, so it took him a minute to realize that the reason he felt that way was because his pelt was gone.

Complete panic instantly overtook him. He flung himself to his feet and searched the room like crazy, looking for his pelt.

It wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere, they'd taken his fucking pelt. He sank to his knees and couldn't fucking breathe, the panic froze his lungs and he couldn't get a breath in, no matter how hard he tried. He was dying. He was going to fucking die because they'd ripped away his skin and now he couldn't breathe.

He didn't know if he lost consciousness or just lost time, but at some point, he blinked and became aware of his surroundings again. His chest hurt, and his throat and eyes and nose. His head started pounding as he sat up.

The room was small, either a crappy bedroom or a decent cell. The single small window had bars on it, there was a bedside table with a freaking pitcher and washbasin like he'd time-traveled to the past, a built-in shelf with a little collection of books, a small table, a plain chair, and a wardrobe in the corner. The wardrobe doors were open, the contents spilled across the floor in his frenzied, fruitless search. It hadn't had much in it, just a few adult-sized outfits that looked like costumes for a ninja movie and some toiletries in a drawer.

Come to think of it, the clothes Jason was wearing now looked like they came from a dōjō or something. He plucked at them with shaking hands, and it occurred to him that someone would have had to change him into them. Horrified, he tugged frantically until he could see his underwear, and discovered that he was not wearing the underwear he'd put on back at the manor - it was some weird garment that looked homemade. Someone would have seen him naked while they changed him into it, and he was going to be sick.

Once he'd managed to gulp down the nausea, he stood shakily and hobbled to the door. Of course it was locked. He pounded on it and shouted until he was hoarse, then kept beating his fists against the wood even after he lost his voice. When his hands hurt too much to continue, he slid to his knees and hid his face against the arm still braced against the door, feeling his eyes brimming with tears.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his dad. He wanted his brother and the ocean and their big quiet house by the beach, he wanted his books and his own clothes and his fucking pelt and his entire life, he wanted his life back, he wanted everything back and he would never complain or misbehave again if they just returned his pelt and gave him...back...to his dad...!

o.o.o

There was an honest-to-God chamber pot under the bed. There was nothing else it could be. Jason stared at it, unable to think of any other use for the thing when it had been set in that specific location. He'd seen it while tearing the room apart earlier, but hadn't given any thought to its function until now, when he really had to pee.

Maybe he was wrong and it wasn't a chamber pot, but if so, then too bad. His captors deserved to have their random ceramic pots filled with pee.

o.o.o

Most of the books on the shelf were in Arabic. A few were in other languages, and only six of them were in English. Of these, there was the Quran, two books of poetry, a book about how toxic and damaging pesticides were, a book about the link between capitalism and climate change, and a book about the impact of discarded plastic.

Jason was making his way through one of the poetry books when the door finally opened. He started and jumped to his feet, flexing his hands around the book as he considered whether to throw it, but it was too late now. He needed to find something better to weaponize.

The person who came in was a woman who didn't look at Jason as she set a tray of food on the little table. "Hey!" he practically yelled at her, "Where am I?! What's-" He suddenly realized that she hadn't locked the door behind her. Without pausing to think twice, he bolted out of the room.

He heard her shouting behind him in a language that wasn't English, but that didn't matter. He needed to find his pelt and then get out of this place, maybe find a phone and call Bruce (now he was really thankful that Bruce had forced Jason to memorize his cell number rather than just relying on speed dial like normal people).

He tore down the hallway, which looked like it was made of stone and had tapestries hanging on the walls. He ignored the shouts of other people he passed, but then two men with swords loomed up and seized him. He kicked and shrieked and fought, but they steadily dragged him back the way he'd come and practically threw him back into his room, locking the door behind them.

Jason spent as long as he could pounding on the door again, yelling to be let out. When he couldn't keep it up anymore, he dragged himself over to the tray that had been delivered and hesitated. He was tempted to hurl the food out the window, but he was really hungry and he couldn't bring himself to waste food. Once his mind was made up, he wolfed it down. It was fairly bland but filling, high quality considering it was for a prisoner.

Once Jason had finished, he sat there for a while, considering. He wanted to make a mess, but it occurred to him that it likely wouldn't be his captors who'd have to clean it up. This operation, whatever it was, was big enough to employ what looked like servants, and he didn't want to make more work for them when they probably had nothing to do with why he was here.

No, he needed to figure out who owned him now, talk to her and try to reason with her. Or bribe her with Bruce's money or whatever. And he needed his pelt. He needed to not be a prisoner, but he couldn't even do anything if there was no one around to persuade...!

o.o.o

Jason eventually fell asleep, but woke up in a panic at the sound of the door opening. He was on his feet immediately. "Hey! The lady who took me from the warehouse, I need to talk- HEY! Get your fucking hands off me!" The guards continued to propel him forward like they didn't even register his attempts at resistance, and the softer-looking man who accompanied them impatiently scolded Jason in not-English. "LET GO!"

They didn't until they reached their destination, which turned out to be a tiled room with drains and elegant showerheads, as well as pictures on the wall and potted plants like a really fancy locker room. The robed man bustled around for a minute and then came back, thrusting a set of folded towels and a basket of toiletries at Jason.

Jason stared at the man, then at the stuff. He reluctantly accepted it, then waited to be left alone to bathe.

None of the men moved. The servant was starting to look impatient again. "Well, are you gonna scram so I can shower?" Jason growled. The man sighed and then reached out and-

Started.

Pulling off Jason's clothes.

"What the FUCK?!" the boy shrieked, dropping the towels and crap so he could grab his own shirt in an attempt to keep it on.

There was a moment of struggle, then the guards were suddenly there, and they made very short work of his clothes. Jason started screaming in a panic when they got his shirt off, but once the rest of him was exposed, he froze. He couldn't move, couldn't make a sound, could barely even breathe as he stood there naked and trembling.

The servant impatiently pushed him to stand under one of the showerheads. Jason managed to lower a hand to cover his junk, couldn't help wrapping his other arm around himself as if he was cold. The room was rather warm, but he still felt...cold.

After a long pause, the servant finally burst into an angry tirade and turned on the water. Jason flinched at the sudden spray of cold water and tears started to spill down his cheeks even though the temperature soon warmed up. He broke down and cried openly as the servant started washing him, impatiently scrunching shampoo through his hair and scrubbing soap over his skin.

"Don't...touch me...don't fucking...touch me...!" he managed to choke out, but couldn't bear to push the man away because that would require uncovering himself.

Once he was clean, the servant shut off the water and practically threw a towel over him. The guards had to pick him up and carry him into the next room, which was uncomfortably warm and steamy and contained several naked men lounging in a huge hot tub. Jason barely had time to struggle before the towel was pulled away and he was set into the painfully hot water.

He choked out a curse and tried to hoist himself out of the tub, but the servant shoved him back in and then exploded, shouting a long scolding lecture that Jason didn't understand a word of. The boy miserably endured it, legs curled to his chest as he stared at the water. The servant finally shoved at Jason's head in disgust, snapped out an order to the guards, and marched away.

The room was dead silent for a long moment. Then whispers and murmurs started up, many in languages Jason didn't know. Someone moved close to him, and he jerked away in alarm.

"Easy, now," the man soothed in accented English, raising his hands. His face was rugged but had a kind expression. "You're just a child... Are you new?"

"I was kidnapped," Jason spat. "This a sex trafficking ring or something?"

The man stared at him. "Er...no. We are...'guests' of the Demon's Head."

"The what now?"

"Ra's al Ghul. The man's on a mission to save the planet, which would all be very well and good if he saw us as people who can turn into seals, rather than intelligent seals who sometimes take human form."

Jason stared at him.

"It's not so bad," the man said reassuringly. "We're favored prisoners, get decent food and nice baths and such."

"I was kidnapped out of my dad's arms," Jason ground out. It had not escaped his notice that the man, who'd implied he was a selkie, was wearing nothing and therefore could not possibly have his pelt on.

"Ah...for what it's worth, I really am sorry to hear that," the man said. "But...you know, there's nothing any of us can do about it, so might as well enjoy what you've got now, right?"

"Fuck you!" Jason shouted, slamming his palm into the water so that hot liquid splashed into the man's face.

The man swore and moved away, but now the guards were approaching. Jason had barely moved to try to dodge before they seized him and hauled him out of the water. He screamed and struggled madly, aghast to be completely exposed again and in front of a larger audience this time. He was hauled into the next room, which looked like a sort of dressing room, and the same servant from before was marching toward him with some kind of stick in his hand.

The man seized Jason and slammed him facedown over a bench, then started whipping him with the stick. There were less than ten blows, but the first few were administered so viciously that Jason screamed in agony. All the fight had gone out of him by the time the man finished up with the last few perfunctory strikes and then tossed him aside onto the floor.

Jason sobbed, having no will to resist as two nervous-looking boys barely older than he was struggled to get him dressed again. He kicked weakly when the fabric brushed his throbbing butt and legs, but at least it was some sort of robe instead of pants, and there was no underwear this time.

One of the guards hauled him up and carried him to his room- his cell, setting him on the bed when they arrived. Jason groaned and rolled onto his stomach as the door was closed and locked. "Fuck...you...fuck all of you...!"

o.o.o

He snapped out of a doze when the door opened again, admitting the two guards, the child abusing servant, a middle-aged woman in a strict hijab, and an old woman with a much looser headscarf and a bag. Jason had been lying still for a long time, so he felt stiff and a little ill as he tried and failed to get up. He screamed when the guards took hold of him again, even though this time they didn't drag him anywhere. They held him facedown on the bed as the old woman shifted aside his robe.

"Oh, hell no," he snarled, but couldn't do anything to stop her from examining the welts on his bare butt and legs.

The old woman turned and started forcefully scolding the manservant, who protested whinily but eventually threw up his hands and stalked away. The two women exchanged a few terse words, then the younger one left as well. The older one turned back to the bed and rummaged in her bag for a minute, then started rubbing something on the injuries. Jason yelled at the first touch of the thick cream, but even though it hurt at first, it felt better after a minute. She bandaged him and then packed up her stuff, saying something to him that he didn't freaking understand because all he freaking knew was freaking English.

Then the guards let go of him, and they all left.

Jason struggled to pull the robe over his butt again, then lay still. He wasn't sleepy at all, but he felt too tired to move.

TBC

A/N: The al Ghuls have never canonically expressed religious sentiments as far as I know, Talia dresses to enhance her sex appeal, and Ra's is far too egotistical and self-worshiping to bow to any god. The only reason I included a Quran in Jason's cell is because, while the al Ghuls themselves aren't religious, many of the people who work for them probably are, and their headquarters are in a Muslim-majority region.