Summary: Jump City had been peaceful for the past two years. Slade was out of commission after a grueling fight, super-villains were far and few, and the crime rate was low. So the Titans had pursed their hobbies. Beast Boy volunteered at a wildlife museum for children and enjoyed the work. The 19-year-old had nothing to fear…until Slade reappeared. (One-sided Slade x Beast Boy)
Trapped Chapter 4
Hours blurred into days and days into weeks. Somewhere along the line, Beast Boy was allowed the privilege to roam the, admittedly massive, house and occupy himself with chores. Grant didn't force him to eat animals, though it was always a very real threat, and Beast Boy reluctantly played obedient housewife to avoid any sexual encounters he was allowed not to have.
Though he had frequently tried to escape, he never got close to leaving the house because apparently the windows were made of bulletproof glass, of course, and covered by heavy curtains that wouldn't budge no matter how hard he tried to move them. And the exits were locked with a code of all things. Breaking down metal doors that had a wood covering was not feasible. Not with his level of strength. Maybe the other Titans could, but he on the other hand…
He exhaled, scrubbing the surface of Grant's desk with a wet rag. Disinfectant fumes burned his eyes but if he wanted the surface to be clean after last night's… punishment, then he had to endure. Trying not to breathe in too deep, he pulled away and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
"Pet," Grant called from outside the office. "Come here."
What did he want this time? Frowning, Beast Boy set the rag atop the desk and emerged from the office and soon entered the living room. "I'm sorta in the middle of something."
He eyed Grant's back as the man stood from the couch and turned around. The man waited with an expectant stare. Beast Boy held the gaze before grunting in distaste and shuffled forwards. Just as he curved around the couch, he caught sight of an unfamiliar object.
"A guitar?" He lifted his chin. "Why'd you–"
"You will learn how to play." The man said, voice monotone but clearly authoritative.
Beast Boy blinked and worked his jaw for a moment. "But–"
His captor cocked a brow.
He lifted his hands. "Okay, okay I'll learn. But how?"
"Remember the tailor who measured you during your first week here?"
At the mention of the seamstress, Grant swept his focus approvingly over the smaller man's frame. No matter how many dresses he wore, he just couldn't stop the feeling of vulnerability every time he wore one near Grant. Which was all the time because he was never allowed to wear anything else, but still.
"Yeah…?"
"She will teach you." His captor tilted his head slightly, gaze low.
Beast Boy blushed when he realized the man was staring at his exposed collarbones. The dress he currently wore was more…bare than the last few. It had a very low back and short sleeves with a sharp v cut in the front. Though the hem of the dress reached the anklets on his legs, he knew how easy it was to lift the fabric, rip off the last protective layer beneath it, and…
He shuddered and Grant's expression tightened. "Pet, what's wrong?"
"Nothing…" he trailed and turned, a stare burning his bared skin. "I have an office to clean."
But Grant didn't relent. "Garfield."
He swallowed and faced the man. "I just…I just don't like you."
His captor frowned. "Oh?"
"You know I'll never love you." Beast Boy resisted the urge to flee as Grant stepped forwards and ensnared him in broad arms.
"Really, now? You certainly seem to like me between the sheets."
Beast Boy grimaced. "Because you order me to."
A hand trailed down his spine and he stifled a whimper. Though he was able to walk after his captor had ruined his backside last night, he was still sore and he wanted to at least have a night he didn't dread.
"Grant…" he paused as fingers curled into his skin, digging and then loosening.
A massage? His captor rarely gave him a massage unless if he was feeling particularly generous. Or had succeeded in a mercenary hit. He swallowed.
He had found that out when the criminal had come to the mansion with 'good' news. Grant had murdered a political leader and left no leads for the police to follow. The case was given up as an "unfortunate accident" and the press moved on. Grant had boasted that even Nightwing couldn't prove the murder as anything other than an accident of the politician's own fault.
The remark still stuck with him. How were his friends? Were they alright? Were they still looking for him? Did they even know he was alive? He'd seen them on the news on TV, but Grant rarely let him watch that channel.
"What happened?" He prompted, forcing himself to lean into the touch. The more responsive he was, the more answers he received.
"Another victory. Soon I'll have enough soldiers in my army to kill all superheroes."
"Army?" Beast Boy jerked out of the hold. "Kill?"
"I'll rule this country with you at my side." Grant gathered him back into the embrace. "We'll own this world."
Beast Boy shook his head and pushed against the chest. "I'm a superhero. Are you gonna kill me too?"
Grant shushed him, stroking the exposed skin on his back. "No, I plan to keep you for a long time."
"As a toy." The teen shoved. "I'm a person, damnit!"
"And you deserve a treat to celebrate my victory." The man dragged him to the couch and sat him beside the guitar. "Lay down." Grant commanded and moved the guitar to lean against the wall. "On your stomach."
Beast Boy stood, fists ready. "I am sick of being your plaything!"
The man glared at the ceiling, hands rising. "This again?"
"Yes, this again!" He shouted. "How many times do I have to say it? I want no part in your crazy, cruel, and sadistic plans!"
"I've said it before. You're safe here." Grant countered.
"In this massive house? Don't you know how lonely it is here?" Beast Boy seethed. "You ripped me from my home, demanded obedience, and then you seriously expected me to just roll over? That's not what I want for my life!"
"Then what do you want?" Grant crossed his arms, expression neutral.
The teen paused and scrunched his face. Wasn't it obvious? "My friends? My family? My freedom? What do you think I want?"
The man studied his expression for a moment before a lazy smile creeped across his face. Beast Boy's hackles raised.
"What?" He bared his teeth. "What's so funny?"
"You'll see soon enough." Grant unfolded his arms and waved a hand, walking away. "Guitar lessons begin tomorrow at noon. I expect steak and a salad for dinner. I'll be in my office. Don't disturb me till then."
The teen stared, dumbfounded, as his captor left. He frowned, looking at the doorway leading the way to the office. Exhaling, because what could he do? He set to searching for any other guitar gear he could think of that Grant would have hidden in the house. It was like a twisted version of fetch, except he never knew where his captor would hide the items and he hated playing the game.
In the end, he found a guitar case with a pick and capo inside, as well as a sheet music stand. By the time he finished, it was time to make dinner for him and his kidnapper.
He paused in one of the various empty rooms, taking a moment to study the guitar in his hands before he would put it away. It was crafted out of maple wood with a rich color and glossy finish. By the neck was an electric tuner and nearby that was the pocket that held batteries. He hated to admit it, but the guitar was beautiful with the intricate engravings carved on the front. Flowing lines and spirals and, when he squinted, he could spot small depictions of animals here and there.
Beast Boy placed the instrument in its case and tucked it into a corner. He stood and turned to the doorway, glancing at the rest of the make-shift storage room. Atop a redwood desk in the other corner sat a glass chess set and a few books about endangered species. Other than the plush arm chair by the table and the calendar with crossed out days on the white walls, the room was lacking in personality.
Still, it was pretty much his room: the only thing he was really allowed to have to himself. His gaze lingered on the calendar tacked to the wall. Middle of August. One and a half months. Had he really been gone for such little time? It felt longer.
He sighed and left the room, shutting the door and heading for the kitchen. He had dinner to make.
~oOo~
Two or so months and a scolding for moving all the furniture two inches to the left again later, Beast Boy was lounging in the electric massage chair, back sore, and playing a video game when Grant walked into the living room with a grin.
"Garfield, come greet my new apprentices."
The nineteen turning twenty-year-old paused the game. "What." The criminal mastermind had to be joking for once.
"Come here, children." Grant waved a hand.
A pair of soft footsteps and wide-eyed faces peered around the doorway and into the room. Two white girls huddled together, one slightly taller than the other and holding the younger protectively, and Beast Boy stared, drinking in the sight.
The older child, around 6 to 8 he guessed, had black hair up in a messy ponytail. She wore a pink t-shirt, dull and clearly old, and ripped pants. The younger, roughly around 5 or so, also had black hair but cut close to her face in such volume it fell in waves. She wore a faded yellow shirt and a black skirt that reminded him of a bumble bee.
He thoughts drifted to one of the Titans. Bumble Bee…did she or the other Titans East know he was gone? Were they still looking or had given up by now? What about Jericho? Was he alright?
A gasp yanked him out of his thoughts as the children zeroed focus onto him. Bright blue eyes from lightly tanned faces stared wide-eyed at him.
"Uh," Beast Boy took the cue and pushed himself to his feet, controller falling out of his hands as the dress swished around his ankles. "Hi, I'm–"
"Beast Boy!" The younger girl grabbed her sisters hand and ran to him. She bounced in place. "You're a superhero!"
Though the children didn't notice, Beast Boy could feel the atmosphere darken. He swallowed and his skin prickled, feeling a burning gaze on his face.
"Ah…" he hesitated. What should he do? He hadn't interacted with someone other than Grant or the tailor for over three months. "Uh…"
"Garfield is no longer a superhero." Grant slid to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. "But he's happy to be here and become your new father."
Beast Boy jolted and couldn't stop himself from blurting. "Wait, what?"
"You'll leave us eventually." The older girl stared at the two of them with narrowed eyes. "Just like everyone else."
The younger quieted, focus shifting to the carpet.
Beast Boy's heart broke. "Hey, hey, now. I don't know who you are or what you've been through but for as long as I can be here for you, I will."
The older girl continued to stare at him, distrust clear. He shifted and stepped out of Grant's arms to crouch and hold out a hand.
"Let's start over. I'm Beast–" a throat cleared and he scowled. He'd always be Beast Boy in his heart but he had to please his captor to avoid a fight. "Fine. I'm Garfield and–"
The younger giggled. "Your real name's Garfield?"
He smiled and brushed a hand through his hair. "Well…yeah. It's kinda a silly name, huh?"
"Sillier than mine!" She chirped. "I'm Rebecca and I'm five years old!"
"Rebecca's a great name." His smile softened before turning cheeky. "But I bet your sister here has an even cooler name."
They turned to the slightly older child and she blushed. "I'm Angelina…"
He placed a finger to his cheek and tilted his head, looking at the younger girl first. "So you're Angelina and she's Rebecca, right?"
The younger gasped. "No, no, I'm Rebecca!"
He 'oh'ed and scrunched his face as if thinking very hard. "So…you're Becky and she's Angel?"
The girl shook her head, clearly exasperated. "Rebecca! My name's Re-beck-ah!"
"Reh…" he tried with a straight face. "Reh-beak-ah?"
"No no!" She scolded. "Try again! Rebecca"
"Becca?" He offered. "And is your sister Angie?"
She slapped her forehead. "No it's not!"
He burst into a giggle. "No, it's snot?"
Rebecca caught onto his game and pursed her lips and placed small fists against her hips. "Now you're just being a…a buttface!"
"I prefer stinker, myself." He pinched her cheek. "Cause I stink!"
She laughed and batted the hand. "Yeah you do!"
He shifted his focus onto the older sister. "So Angie and Becca. Becca and Angie. Sound good?"
The older studied his face a moment, head tilted, but shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."
His smile faltered. "Well, how old are you, Angie?"
"Seven." She muttered.
"When's your birthday?"
"Already happened."
He bit the inside of his cheek. She was a tough cookie but he'd get through to her. He managed to make friends with Raven after all… His gaze dropped. Raven…how was she doing? How were all the Titans doing? On TV they seemed okay. Alive, at least. But…
"Mr. Garfield?" A small voice prompted and he blinked. "Are you okay?"
He stared at Becca for a moment before offering a shaky smile. "Yeah, just…thinking is all."
She frowned but didn't press as he stood and said. "Well, maybe we can have something fun happen for Thanksgiving?"
The girls blinked and he shifted as Becca tilted her head. "What's Thanksgiving?"
Beast Boy frowned. "You've never–uh, well." He looked around for help and jumped when he realized Grant was still there. He'd completely forgotten the dude was even in the same room. And offering no help, of course. What a jerk.
"Well, uh…" Beast Boy tried again. "It's a time to celebrate being grateful for what you have? And you have a big feast and," he latched onto a memory and ran with it. "And you cook with your family and laugh and joke and play and just be glad that they're around and…" a sharp pang of loss hit him.
His voice softened. "And even when you argue you know that they'd always be there for you, no matter what. Even if they couldn't be around…"
Becca's eyes had widened and she clapped once. "I want a family like that too!" And then her stomach growled.
Beast Boy offered a smile, summoning forced cheer. "Sounds like you're hungry! I can make a mean tofu hamburger, if you'd like."
"What's tofu?" Angie pitched in as she scrunched her face. "That sounds weird."
He grinned and sang, feeling lighter. "It's good." At least he could share one of his favorite things with someone.
A low voice snorted and broad arms tugged his front against a chest. The young man tensed only to blush when he realized their position but didn't struggle. He didn't want to scare the children. If they saw one adult fighting against the other, then they'd probably freak out.
Mental gears clicked.
Was that why Grant had gotten children to become his new apprentices? To specifically keep him in check? Irritation flashed but one glance at the children sent ice down his spine. Grant planned to turned these innocent kids into killing machines. If he had anything to say about it, then he would sabotage the creep every damn step of the way.
"C'mon, dude," he tried to make his pushing look playful. "I've gotta cook!"
"I'll have a steak myself, love."
Beast Boy stiffened. Love? Grant rarely used the term of endearment unless if he was feeling…genuinely affectionate. He swallowed back bile. When Grant was really, truly, affectionate he was actually a decent human being and Beast Boy didn't want to think about what it meant if he actually started to like the monster who had ripped him from his home.
Sure the man had bought him things, like the guitar or video games or the massage chair, but…
"R-right…" he trailed. "Sure."
Grant kissed him chaste on the lips and let him go. The man turned to the children. "While your father prepares dinner, I'll show you two to the gym. You both will use it often."
Beast Boy scowled. "Nuh-uh. Let them watch TV instead. It won't take that long to cook."
Becca looked around the taller man's legs and spotted the big screen. "Is that Maria Party? I love that game!"
He shot a smug grin Grant's way and plucked the controller off the massage chair and placed it into the child's hands. "Go on and play."
Despite the glare piercing his back, he straightened with a smile. At least, until the girl started to cry.
"What's wrong?" He crouched, eyes wide. "What happened?"
Angie looked ready to throw a fit until Becca hiccupped. "I've never actually played before…I don't know how."
Beast Boy exhaled, relieved. "Oh, alright. That's okay, lil dude. It's okay."
Once he explained how to move and play, the girl lit up like a firefly in a forest and clambered onto the couch, bouncing in place as she delightedly cheered for her sister to join her. The young man smiled. He was tempted to stay and watch her kick the bad guy's butt but he had a meal to cook.
So he turned to Grant and waved a hand, asking the man to follow. He walked to the kitchen and set to preparing dinner when the jerk appeared. The man leaned against the doorway.
The criminal mastermind had the nerve to ask. "What?"
"What do you mean, what." Beast Boy tightened his grip on the pan handle. "You know damn well what I want to know."
The jerk grinned. "I'd rather you enlighten me."
The young man exhaled, struggling to rein in his temper, and clicked on the electric stove. "Are you trying to ruin lives?"
"No," Grant returned with a frown. "I'm trying to help you."
"What part of kidnapping children is helping me?" He placed the pan atop the metal surface.
"They are my children and I am their father. I did not kidnap them."
Beast Boy took a moment to stare, lips pursed. "Do you really think I'm that dumb?"
Grant straightened and took two steps forwards but Beast Boy reared the flat of the pan and growled.
"They are mine." Grant repeated but stayed where he was. For once.
"They are not." Beast Boy snapped. "And you will take them back to their family or else."
"We don't have a family." A soft voice drifted into the kitchen. "They left us."
Beast Boy froze, ears twitching towards the doorway. He forced his stance to relax despite his fighting instincts and placed the pan back atop the metal and clicked off the electricity. There were kids to protect.
The words took a moment to register, but when they did he whiplashed into concern. "Wait, what? Why would they do that?"
Angie stayed by the doorway, the sounds of delighted cheers behind her as her younger sister continued to play the game. She shrugged. "It's just what everyone does."
Silence descended, broken only by Becca's shrieks. Beast Boy almost wanted to cry himself. She was only seven. Her sister even younger! She shouldn't have such a depressing perspective and reality. She shouldn't have had to gone through such heartache. His own heart cracked. And Grant would only make their lives worse.
An idea creeped into his mind. If they didn't have a family to return to, and if Grant really wouldn't let them go no matter what he said, then...
Then he would be the one to take care of them. To cherish them and raise them with love and care that Grant would never give them. He'd be the best parental figure they'd ever have.
But first, he had to give them one last chance at freedom.
"Angie..." He exhaled. "Angelina, I just need to make sure of one thing before I promise you something."
She frowned at him.
He turned to the man that had dragged them all into this mess. "...you said you didn't kidnap them. What, exactly, did you mean by that? No games, Grant, I'm serious."
A lazy smile spread across the man's face but answered anyway. "I adopted them. They are legally my daughters: Angelina Wilson and Rebecca Wilson."
That...that wasn't what he expected. At all. His stomach dropped. "Wait a minute, adopted?"
"Yes. Happy now?"
Beast Boy chewed on the meaning in his mind. Grant had adopted the girls. Legally. Which meant no one would be looking for them because they technically weren't kidnapped. But that also meant...
"You're really their legal dad..." The concept just wouldn't stick. "You're really..."
"Yes." Grant repeated, impatience becoming clear as he leaned against the fridge. "Angelina, return to the living room."
"Angie, wait." Beast Boy cut in and strode past his captor to kneel in front of the sullen girl. "Angie, I just want to promise you something. Hear me out, okay?"
Grant snorted but didn't interrupt. The child met his gaze with a deeper frown.
"I just..." He inhaled. "I promise to always be there for you girls. No matter what. No matter where you two go or what you both do, I will do my absolute best to support both of you."
"Why?"
"Because..." he faltered. "Well, because I can."
She still looked doubtful. What else could he do or say that would really cement the promise? The only thing he had on hand was the square scraps of paper he kept in the breast pocket on the inside of the dress. What would've comforted him as a child? He really liked doing origami, so...
"Here," he pulled out a piece of green paper and offered a dopey smile when she blinked. "Watch."
He started to fold the paper, creasing here and there and unfolding once or twice while she watched with amazement as an origami turtle was made before her eyes. Absently, Beast Boy registered the familiar stare of Grant's eyes on his back but he paid it no mind, too intent on crafting to care.
"Annnd done!" He presented the turtle with a grin. "For good luck!"
"So that's why you kept those there." Grant murmured beneath his breath.
Beast Boy's ear twitched toward the low noise but didn't respond, focus on the girl's shocked face.
"Really?" She asked, tone quiet and almost scared. As if she were afraid he'd yank it away and laugh that it was all one big prank. "Really really?"
His smile strained. Her reaction was just more proof he had to give them everything he could. "Really really."
She accepted the origami turtle with tentative hands and wide eyes. She brought the paper to her face and studied it closely, and Beast Boy could almost see the mental gears turning in her head. Slowly, she lowered the turtle, blinking fast and cheeks reddening and murmured.
"Thank you."
Beast Boy couldn't stand it. He gathered her into his arms and held her tight as she gasped but didn't protest. Tears dampened the shoulder of his dress as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck and he flailed for words other than soothing nonsense.
"I'm right here, I've got you." He settled with and rubbed circles on her back. "I'm right here."
When her quiet sobbing eased into sniffles, he pulled away and smiled softly. "Now how's that burger sound?"
Grant stepped in. "Your father and I have a few things to discuss but dinner will be made shortly. Wait in the living room until we finish."
Beast Boy offered an encouraging smile that she shakily returned. She held the turtle close and rushed to her sister shouting. "Becca, Becca! Look at what I got!"
Becca's faint chirps filled the air and Beast Boy had half a mind to ditch Grant and go watch the two girls 'ooo' and 'ah' over the gift. What could he say? He was a sucker for flattery. And smiles. He really liked those.
"Once our daughters adjust to their new home, they will make excellent students. Don't you think?" Grant's voice dragged him back to reality.
The young man scowled and clicked on the stove. Again. "They've had a hard enough life. Don't make it worse."
"Suffering only strengthens them." Grant crossed his arms and propped the bottom of his foot against the fridge.
Beast Boy gritted his teeth, bending over to reach the cabinets beneath the stove. "Suffering hurts them."
"A weakness that will become a strength once they are trained."
"Hurts take time to heal." He shot back, catching Grant staring at his rear as he straightened. "And get your damn foot off the fridge, I just cleaned it yesterday."
Grant didn't listen. "Language." He scolded. "Need I remind you of better uses for that tongue of yours?"
Beast Boy flinched, nearly dropping the can of oil spray in his hands as memories flashed. Salt and sweat and heat and hell... "There's kids who can hear us!"
"Our kids." Grant corrected, tone bored. "Our children can hear us."
Beast Boy paused. Why did that matter? They were still kids who were in the other room and could–wait.
"Our kids?" He whipped around. "Did you just say our kids?"
"Yes." Grant cocked a brow, as if he didn't understand the issue. "We'll be wed next week and I expect you to be on your best behavior."
"Wait..." Beast Boy stared.
"...what?"
~oOo~
Notes: Heh, betcha didn't see any of THAT comin' now did ja?