Thank you to everyone that read the last chapter!
Please note: this chapter contains bad language and non-consensual elements.
Chapter Four: Searching
"Damn it!" Gar yelled as he shoved the keyboard in front of him in frustration. The force of his push sent the keyboard clattering to the floor beside him, but the young man couldn't find it in himself to care. He had been looking for any possible signs of Jason or Deathstroke for over an hour and kept coming up with nothing.
Unexpectedly, a tentative voice asked from the doorway. "Hey…are you okay?"
Gar raked his hands through his green hair and spun the computer chair around to face Rachel as she entered the room holding two coffee cups. "No. I'm really not." And even though Gar's stomach churned with the thought of eating or drinking anything he accepted the offered coffee from Rachel before continuing. "How could I be? I've been searching for over an hour for any sign…any anything of where Deathstroke could have taken Jason, and I've still got nothing!"
Rachel sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. "We'll find him. We just have to—"
"What?! What do we have to just do? What makes you think we can find him? We didn't last time?" Gar argued back instantly.
The purple-haired girl recoiled slightly with her friend's harsh tone. "We did find him, Gar."
The shapeshifter started shaking his head furiously before Rachel even finished speaking. "No, we didn't! Deathstroke set a trap for us. He had absolutely no intention of letting Jason go. He was going to kill Jason in front of Dick."
"You don't know that!" Rachel tried to reason with her distraught friend, but it didn't work.
"Yes, I do!" He countered loudly. "Jason told me that's what Slade said to him. That and the fact that he dropped him off a roof was a pretty good indication that he wasn't going to let Jason live."
The room was quiet for a moment after Gar's outburst. Neither of the young heroes knew what to do or say to the other. Gently, Rachel placed a comforting hand on Gar's shoulder prompting a sad, but appreciative half smile from the young man.
Gar let out a shaky breath. "We don't even know if Jason is still alive."
"Yes, we do."
Both young vigilantes looked up at the new voice as Dick stood tall, shoulders back, exuding confidence just inside the doorway.
Gar swallowed a burning lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. "How could you possibly know that?"
Dick frowned at the crack in Gar's voice and looked at his charge sympathetically. He hesitated to answer the young man's question, because he knew that answer wasn't going to make him feel much better. "Like you said, Deathstroke wanted to kill Jason in front of me. I'm sure that hasn't changed. Deathstroke wants to hurt us…to hurt me for what happened to his son. He's going to keep Jason alive until he can make it hurt the most."
Both teens were deeply affected by their mentor's words. Gar felt his stomach twist with the sick thought of what Deathstroke could be doing to his friend while Rachel's eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Gar?" Dick called trying to get the boy's attention, and when he had it continued. "Just keep looking. I promise we're not giving up on Jason. Okay?"
Gar nodded numbly and bent over to pick up the discarded keyboard to continue the disheartening task of trying to find Deathstroke's hidden tracks.
The original Robin turned on his heels and swiftly left not being able to shake the feeling that he was failing not only Jason again, but Rachel and Gar as well. He never should have started the Titans again. Never should have brought these kids into his world. Dick's self-deprecating thoughts screeched to a sudden halt and shifted to anger. It wasn't Dick that had brought Jason into this life of danger, villains, and pain. No, that was Bruce. The same man that had brought him into this life as well after the death of his parents. Some days Dick was grateful that Bruce took him in and trained him to be Robin and other days, like now, he hated him for it.
Without realizing it, Dick's steps had brought him right to Jason's bedroom door. Silently, the original Robin slipped through the door and into the dark room. He flipped the light switch on and took in his surroundings with a critical gaze.
To the untrained eye, it would look as if Jason had settled into this new space, but Dick could tell a different story. Though, there were various objects and clothing items of Jason's scattered around the room; there was also a backpack fully packed with clothes, money, and granola bars next to the door. The sight of the go-bag made Dick frown.
The detective crossed the room and sat on the edge of the impeccably made bed and dropped his head in his hands. A heavy sigh escaped the vigilante's lips, but the tension didn't leave his shoulders. He stayed like that for a few minutes before Dick lifted his head about to get up and leave, but halted his movement when a well-worn book on Jason's bedside table caught his attention.
Dick reached out and picked up the book to inspect it. His fingers ran over the inset title: 'The Count of Monte Cristo' and opened the book to where Jason had left off about a third of the way through. Dick's warm brown eyes traveled down the page, not really reading anything, before he let the pages slip from is thumb to close. However, before Dick could shut the book entirely, he noticed a message written just inside the cover:
'Jason, I noticed you eyeing this book while we were talking yesterday. I thought you might enjoy it. I know you're not used to asking for anything. I hope receiving this will help you feel more comfortable asking me for whatever you may need or want. Remember this is your home now. Feel free to use the library whenever you'd like. —Bruce.'
Dick felt a pang of guilt in his chest. It seemed like Bruce was really trying with Jason. Bruce had adopted him, taken him in from the streets, taken him under his wing as Robin, while Dick didn't even know his adopted brother liked to read. God he really screwed up.
With extra care, Dick replaced Jason's book where he found it and made a decision. He pulled out his phone to call his dad.
With only a slight moment of hesitation, Dick hit Bruce's contact information on his phone and waited the three rings it took for his father to answer.
"Dick? This is a surprise. I wasn't expecting to hear from you today." Bruce's voice was apprehensive as he answered the call. He knew that if Dick was calling him then most likely something was wrong.
Dick took a quick steadying breath. "Hey Bruce…I need your help."
Bruce responded with a hint of concern leaking through his often-stoic persona. "Well, whatever it is must be bad. I can tell from your voice. Does this have something to do with that ambush you asked me to investigate?"
"No…I don't know. Probably."
"You're not making any sense, Son."
"It's Jason…Bruce I—I don't know what to do." Dick forced out unsteadily fighting to keep the overwhelming feeling of oncoming tears in check. He felt like a child again, looking to Bruce to make everything better, and not at all like the crime fighting vigilante seeking independence that he was.
"Jason? What happened?!" The seriousness in Bruce's tone demanded answers and promised consequences to anyone that dared to harm someone he cared about.
The original Robin hesitated for a moment unsure of how to get the words out. To explain to his father and mentor how he had failed. Even though their relationship was shaky, Bruce had trusted Dick to take care of Jason. To guide and train him to be a better…safer hero, but all Dick had accomplished was to ignore and ostracize the kid. He had allowed Jason to be taken by Deathstroke as a pawn in his revenge against Dick and his gross lack of attention led Jason to contemplate suicide. And now that things were finally going better, Jason was taken against his will again. He hesitated too long.
"Dick, tell me what happened!" Bruce commanded sharply from the other end of the phone using his Batman voice.
Dick jolted from his thoughts and automatically complied with Bruce's request. Numbly aware of the thinly veiled fear in his dad's voice. "Deathstroke has Jason again. He ambushed him when Jay was gathering information from a contact. He set a trap and attacked him in the middle of the fucking day."
Bruce was silent for so long that Dick pulled the phone away to make sure the call didn't disconnect and when he returned it to his ear, he heard his father finally answer curtly. "I'm on my way."
Being kidnapped sucked. Jason wasn't sure if he was happy that Deathstroke had mostly left him alone this time or not. On one hand, the last time Slade had Jason the young man was stuck blindfolded and deaf, beat up, choked, and his tracker ruthlessly cut out of his leg. Which wasn't pleasant by any means. However, this time the younger Robin was bored out of his mind.
Jason had already inspected every inch of his cell three times. His stomach had dropped when he discovered a small bathroom connected through a door on the left wall. Finding it made the young vigilante's fear spike because of what it meant: that Slade was planning to keep him awhile.
Jason must have been drifting in and out of consciousness without realizing it because one moment he was trying to decide if it would be worth it to dislocate his thumb to attempt to free a hand from the cuffs and the next someone was calling his name.
"Jason! Can you hear me?"
A smirk pulled at Jason's lips. He knew that voice. "Hell yeah. You know, I've always wanted to be in a relationship with a badass female." He muttered tiredly.
The young man opened his slightly unfocused eyes to find Rose standing in front of him with the corners of her pink lips lifted into a fond smile. "Don't be stupid."
"What else am I supposed to say to my badass girlfriend that came to rescue me from her batshit crazy dad?" Jason questioned as he tried unsuccessfully to take his weight off the back wall. Stupid broken ribs.
Rose's gaze turned downcast, and Jason's forehead creased with confusion. However, before he could comment on her odd reaction Rose moved next to him on the bed and began assessing his various injuries.
The fact that they weren't running like hell from this stupid cell also confused Jason and he let it show in his tone. "Maybe we should get moving? You can check my injuries when we're the hell out of here."
Rose ignored his words as her hands carefully glided along Jason to each of his injuries. She suddenly pulled her hand away as if it was on fire after Jason hissed in pain when she reached his side. Her concerned gaze lifted to look at her boyfriend's face. "Sorry." Her fingers gently brushed the edge of the white bandage as she turned her attention back to Jason's wounded side. "How bad is it?"
Jason winced. "I'm not sure. Deathstroke threw me through a window, and I got a large shard of glass embedded in my side. I…wasn't awake when he stitched it back up."
Rose seemed to be in a sort of daze, unable to look away from the stark white bandage. Jason had never seen that look from Rose. He saw it a lot on the streets, but never from her. It did nothing to settle Jason's quickly escalating anxiety. "Hey…I'm okay. I've had way worse, and that was before I became Robin. But we really need to go."
Rose didn't say anything, she just nodded absently, but made no attempts to move. When Jason began to shift into a better position to stand, he was abruptly halted by Rose's hands on both sides of his face.
Green eyes widened as the curly-haired man was caught completely off guard. "Rose what the hell—" Rose caressed Jason's face gently before bringing her lips to meet his in probably the most tender kiss they had yet to share, while also cutting off his sentence.
Rose was slow and gentle as her lips moved against Jason's, but the kiss quickly turned desperate and more heated than it started. The grey-haired young woman was suddenly straddling Jason with her knees supporting her own weight on either side of her boyfriend's legs.
Jason knew they didn't have time for this; that they should stop and make their escape. There was a voice in the back of the young man's mind, screaming at him that something was wrong. That he was in danger and needed to move.
The fingertips of Rose's right hand trailed along the sharp angle of Jason's jaw and away from his face. Jason took the opportunity to bring his bound hands up between them.
The young man was just about to push Rose back slightly when a sudden and sharp pinching pain stung his upper arm, and he tore their lips apart with a hiss. He immediately looked down at his arm and saw an empty syringe in Rose's free hand being pulled away. Jason's breath hitched and vision began to blur rapidly as an anguished look crossed his features.
Rose ran her hand through Jason's tangled hair with a guilty expression on her face, the tenderness of the action against her betrayal caused a single tear to escape the young man's watery green eyes. Rose wasn't sure if it was more for Jason or herself as she leaned in and whispered softly in his ear. "I'm so sorry, Jason."
Whatever Rose had given him worked fast in its task to pull the young vigilante into unconsciousness. All Jason wanted to do was ask her why? How could she do this to him? How could she betray the titans, use him, drug him. Especially, after he had told her about his mother and her issues with drugs. Rose knew Jason didn't even like taking pain meds, because of it. But his tongue felt like cotton and his mouth wouldn't cooperate with his command.
Black spots filled his vision and suddenly Rose was gently guiding his body to lay back across the awful mattress. Jason tried to yell and scream at her not to touch him to stop acting like she cared about him, but all he could manage was a few shuddering breaths. He tried to fight against the drug coursing through his veins, but it didn't take long before unconsciousness consumed him.
Rose brushed her boyfriend's unruly hair from his face with tender care and tried to shake away the image of Jason's utterly betrayed and hurt look from her mind. He would understand, Rose tried to reason with herself. She was only doing this to protect him, because she cared about him. Because she had stupidly fallen in love with him. He would understand.
Her father's heavy footsteps sounded behind her, and Rose spoke without turning around. "We had a deal. Remove the cuffs."
Slade moved to her and Jason's side and reached towards the unconscious young man. Rose tensed, ready for a possible fight, but relaxed slightly when her father only unlocked the thick metal cuffs and took them back to his worktable across the room. Rose's heart dropped as she noticed the irritated skin of Jason's wrist where he had clearly tried to get free unsuccessfully. Both wrists were bruised and rubbed raw with a few places bleeding from where the metal had cut into the second Robin's skin. But what really caught Rose's attention was Jason's left wrist which was swollen and looked as if it was at least sprained if not broken. She shook with rage. Her father would have seen how bad Jason's wrist was before restraining him.
"So, you can stitch him up, but a splint for his wrist was asking too much?!" Rose snapped at her father, and the bastard laughed.
"It's not broken. I checked." Slade said with a hint of amusement still in his voice, as if that made it any better that he left Jason's wrist untreated. The mercenary reentered his captive's cell and handed his daughter a large first aid kit where she was still crouched beside Jason's unmoving form. He then made his way to an empty space on the wall between the mattress and bathroom door.
Without another word passed between them Rose got to work carefully treating Jason while Deathstroke attached a short chain with a cuff at the end to the wall with cold indifference.
End Chapter