A/N Here's Chapter Three! :D I did get one review, pointing out that I failed to spell Grayson right ;-; I've made a point of fixing it, so please forgive my mistakes!

Dick looked up at the child, now plastered on the screen above him. He let out a yell, and kicked down the computer chair closest to him.
Alfred winced at the sudden crash, knocking him from his daze.

"It's about time," Damians voice rang through the cave, "Now could you kindly hurry your pace, and get me down."

Nobody was there.
Dread rippled through Dick.
Scarecrow had no doubt filled, wherever Damian was being held, with Fear Toxin.

"Scarecrow stop it!", Dick pleaded, "I'll do what you want!"

He didn't know how, but he had to do something, anything.

"No. I'm not going to stop,", Scarecrow chuckled, "You have your allotted time, and then, only then will I release the boy. Now,"

A small timer appeared on the screen where Damian hung, and the numbers began to descend.

"Tick Tock, Batman,"

The speaker cracked again, and the villains voice cut out, leaving the two older men alone in the cave with the running video of Damian.

"Alfred,", Dick boomed again, making his way over to his suit, "I need you to call Tim. We're going to need all the help we can get."

"Mother?", Damian's voice cracked.

Dicked whipped around to Damians image, only nothing was there. It took every part of him not to lose it right there.

"We're running out of time,"

"Mother?"

There she was, the ever so cunning Talia Ah Ghul, standing before her son.
Or so he thought.
She wore the only outfit he could recall her in, and her eyes were dark holes in her head. She walked slowly towards the boy, giving him a disgusted look.

"Look at you,", she spat, "How weak. Strung up like a victim, I raised you better than this, and you failed me, you're no good to me,"

Damian shook his head, sweat beading down the side of his face. His heart was pounding in his chest, and nausea had set in.

"No, Mother, please,", he begged, "You don't understand I-"

"Oh I understand,", another voice chimed in, "You're a mess, a disgrace, you're the reason I died."

Bruce stepped up out of the shadows, blood pouring from his face. The sight caused Damian to cry out.

"Father! No, Father please,"

His thoughts were coming out faster than he could think them up, and his words were tumbling off his tounge. For the first time in his life, Damian Wayne felt utterly and completely vulnerable.

The rain pelted the window, and slid down like children in a park.
A shrill ringing filled the room, and Timothy Drake had to rush from the shower to catch the phone in time.
He hadn't been home since Bruce...Well, since Bruce. There wasn't any reason for him to be at the Manor anymore. Damian despised him, despite his futile attempts to have a relationship with his younger sibling, and Dick was Dick. He tried to referee the two boys, but it hit a point and Tim decided to be the bigger of the two, and just walk away. He still spoke to Dick, and checked in every now and then, but nothing was the same anymore.

Drying his hair off with one hand, he reached for the phone with the other, placing it to his damp ear.

"Hello?", he chimed.

"Tim," came the harsh reply, "I need you."

"Dick?", Tim asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Dicks voice was quivering, and he didn't sound at all like himself.

"Dick what's wrong?"

"It's Damian, I can't explain it all now..you...I just need you, okay?"

Tim absently nodded, slipping on a pair of jeans, "Yeah, sure, I'm on my way right now."

"Thank you, Tim."

Was all Dick replied before hanging up.

Across the street, peering into Tim's dimly lit apartment, a figure slunk back in the dark shadows.
He had a plan.

A/N DUN DUN DUNN hahaha Who was that mysterious figure on the rooftop? Will Tim be able to help his brothers? Will Damian be okay!? Tune in next time for more of 'Nobody Puts Damian In The Corner"!
Hahaha :P Please review, feedback is always welcome!