A/N Yaay! Another chapter! :) Chapter Eight already! ;-; Don't worry though, loyal readers, we're not done ;) We've got a bit more to go still. I hope you don't mind :o
As per stated by Guest reviewer, I will have a few post kidnapping chapters, and all that stuff :P So before we get there, if you have any ideas for upcoming chapters, or something or someone you'd like to see, just drop a line! Enjoy!

Tim Drake sat in the batcave, forcing himself to sit through the live feed above him. Titus lay at his feet, perking up and growling every time Damian let out a deafening scream.
There was nothing in the room yet, Damian screamed and cried and begged, and every time, Tim flinched.
He couldn't understand it. What kind of person would do this to a child? Yes, Damian came off as harsh, rude, cruel, violent, the list could go on but at the end of the day he was a child.
Lost briefly in his thoughts, he was pulled out of them by another one of Damian's heart wrenching screams.
He never thought the kid was capable of feelings other than anger, but when he cried, and screamed and begged, it tore Tim apart. He hadn't realized how much he had come to care about his little brother.

On screen Damian was screaming again, after what seemed to be a silent breakdown. He got up from his laying position, and began to scramble backwards.

"What have I done!?", he screamed, "What have I done?"

The boy crumpled to his knees, and for a second, the briefest of moments, Damian looked at Tim through the camera.
His heart stopped in his chest, his chest contracting, like he had swallowed something too big and he couldn't breathe anymore.
His eyes, though dark and fuzzy, were riddled with pain; screaming for help. He had been holding it back this whole time, but when Damian stared right through him and then turned his head again, Tim choked up a hard sob, tears bursting from the corners of his eyes.
It was too much.

With shaky hands, he pressed the rewind button on the massive keyboard, pausing it when Damian looked right at him. He kept it like that, while he reached for his ear piece that'd he'd earlier taken out.
He hit the small blue button on the side, and took in a deep breath before speaking.
He couldn't Dick know he wasn't able to keep it together. Dick would take him off the case faster than his head could spin.

"Dick,", he called in, his voice shaking more than he'd anticipated, "Dick it's getting bad."

"What do you mean?", came his fuzzy reply, "It's already bad."

Tim hit the play button again, no longer able to withsstand the petrified eyes, and the video sped up live. Damian moved quickly around the room until the video caught up with itself, and Damian stood against a wall now, his hands clawing at them, his screams never fading.
Dick must have heard these gasps, because his only response was a sharp gasp.

"Tim,", Dick started, "I'm coming back. I have someone that may be able to help us find Damian. He might be our only chance."

"Help? From who?", Tim asked.

"Just...just keep an open mind for me, okay Timmy? I'll be there soon."

An open mind?
Tim thought.
Who was he bringing in? You didn't just bring anyone to the batcave. Tim reached over his shoulders, and pulled his hood back on over his eyes, reluctantly awaiting their...guest.

Damian screamed, and kicked, and clawed at the walls until his finger nails bled; he had even gruesomely managed to rip three of them off. But he didn't care, he barely noticed the pain compared to the scene behind him.
It was raining, and thunder clashed above him, lightning every so often lighting up the dark alley way.

Behind him, lay Grayson. He was laying on his back, his mask missing, his eyes wide open.
Another version of Damian stood over him, his famed sword in hand, and dripping with his older brothers blood.
He was dead. Dick Grayson was dead, and Damian had killed him.
More than killed him, he had over killed him, brutally murdered him. Dick's Kevlar suit, formerly belonging to their father, was cut open vertically exposing Dick's innards; like a science project. The Damian that stood over his mentor looked down at him like he was nothing, just another victim that couldn't follow suit.

"This is what you've done,", his mothers voice taunted him, "This is what you were bred for my son, to take over as Batman and rightfully the family business."

Damian shook his head, trying desperately to get away.

"I'm so proud of you.", she chimed, "You've done Mother proud."

"No!", Damian screamed, his voice cracking with hints of puberty, "This isn't what I wanted!"

"Damian!", his mother snapped, her voice nothing but threats in his head, "Snap out of it! I had you raised better than this! You are looking at nothing but the inevitable. Be proud of that."

Be proud of that?
Be proud of what?
That he was born and raised to do nothing but piss off his father?
To disrupt him?
To do nothing but destroy everything his father had come to know and love?
How was he supposed to live, and love, and trust, knowing that one day he'd turn his back on everyone?

Damian continued fighting with the hard wall-fighting to get away.
Fighting for Dick.
For Tim.
For Jason.

A/N Wow that was painfully short ;-; Sorry about that haha I know I have a bad habit of never writing enough. But I will fix that in upcoming chapters! Hope you enjoyed, please review! 3 ~