Sorry I took sooooo long to update this.

Thank you YokoYuyGal, GuesssWho and CyanideDreams610 for the , Batman will be in the next chapter or the one after that. No, that's not you're imagination but nothing major is going to happen (this isn't a romance). This chapter is dedicated to you.

It was night. The police had made no progress in their negociations and were unwilling to carry out their treath of using gas. A dead hostage would not look good in the papers.

Jon sat with his brother at the far end of the room from the police man. Jack noticed how thin he was, thinner even than they'd been as children. Getting him to eat anything at all was a struggle. And he shook constantly, even now that he had finally slipped into an uneasy sleep. Jackson wanted to track down and kill everyone that had played a part in doing this to him. But it wouldn't help. Their father's death hadn't changed anything. Killing someone couldn't change the past.

Jon shifted and cried out in his sleep, weakly trying to bring his arms up to cover his head. Jack smothed his soft brittle hair and told him that it was ok, that he was safe.

"Jack?" he asked, still half lost in dark dreams.

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"Jack it's all flowing in and... I don't know what to do... and I can't... get away."

"I'm looking after you now Jon. It's going to be ok."

He thought he might cry when he remembered intelligence burning brighter than the sun in sky blue eyes as a four year old boy thought himself to read from discarded tabloids. Now those eyes held only confusion and blank fear. Jon could get better. He had to believe that.

"They'll pull us down underneath!"

"Shhh," He lay down, gently wrapping his arms around his twin's emaciated body. "Nobody's going to hurt us again."

The screech of car tyres woke Jack. He hadn't ment to sleep but lying together with Jon in the quiet he had drifted off. Now something was happening. He kept very still, listening. Silence. Where was the sound of police moving about, of inaudible speach and newstrucks? Carefull not to jar his brother he stood and, taking hold of his knife, walked to the door. The police officer was awake and watched him but said nothing. He listened again at the door. Still nothing. Pulling back the latch he opened it just a crack and peered out. The police cars and camera-men were gone. The whole area was deserted. Headlights shone in the distance. They were quickly coming closer. "Oh shit..." He spun around. "Jon we have to leave now!" He ran over, helping him to stand, then pulled him to the door. But it was too late. The men were already stepping out of their cars. Jacks employers had finally caught up with him.

Jack pulled against the ropes that held him tightly to a hard plastic chair. He couldn't see but he could hear footsteps and a sniggering laugh. "Where's my brother?" Jackson demanded. A door slammed.

"Right, your brother. I'd think you'd be more worried about where you." A hand reached out and ripped away his blindfold. Two men stood before him. He knew both of them. They did the same type of work that he had done before his incarceration. They weren't as good though. They never would be. But they hadn't been caught.

"Where's Jon?" he asked again.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"If you've done anything to him I'll kill you."

"Actually it's you who's going to die Jack, eventually, once the boss is finished making an example out of you."

"I made one mistake! One!"

"Two. You should have stayed in prison."

From the darkness they produced a pair of baseball bats.