Warning: This chapter contains semi-graphic non-consensual sex. This story is dark.
Chapter 7
Dick did not know how long the car ride lasted. It was hard to know anything at all with the way the world was spinning chaotically around him. He could smell violets and hear low voices, and there were fingers sliding hotly over skin in places he was certain no fingers should be. But nor was he in one of his nightmarish dreams; he was awake enough to understand that at least. Myra had kidnapped him for some reason, and Alfred was…he didn't know where Alfred was and everytime he thought about that his heart would lurch and his thoughts would swiftly spin off in another direction. When the car finally stopped, one of the giant men from before picked Dick up again, holding him like an infant while Violet Myra led the way into a building.
His mind was slowly clearing, not enough, not nearly enough, but the world was beginning to make sense once more. All the same, what he saw confused him. They were in a garden, but they were indoors. And there was a throne where a woman with red hair was lounging. Myra stood before her.
"Honestly," Poison Ivy was saying, "I don't know what you see in the boy. Wouldn't it have been simpler to bring the millionaire here?" She had a slightly disgusted expression on her face as she looked at Myra. Myra didn't appear too concerned.
"I thought it was Batman you wanted," she answered, "He'll come, either way you know. You know how the bat gets about children in jeopardy, and you said he knows Bruce; he's bound to know little Dicky. Besides," she pouted slightly here, "Your perfume wasn't enough. He refused to go on a ride with me. Tried to send me away, but he must have gone to work after all; he wasn't there when I got back." She walked back to where Dick was still being held in the goon's arms. "I'd rather play with the boy anyway." Gently, she ran her fingers through his hair.
"I sent you after the man, not the boy," Poison Ivy insisted, her expression of disgust still evident, "People like you are why humanity deserves to die." Myra turned a dark look upon the throned villain.
"You promised I could have whoever I wanted if I did what you said," she answered, "You never would have gotten past the security in all those buildings if I wasn't there. And who better to test your newest formula than a man renowned for never keeping a girlfriend longer than a week?"
"The perfume was clean," Dick murmured, confusion evident on his face as he tried to concentrate well enough to follow what was going on, "He tested…said it was just…" Poison Ivy laughed at Myra's stunned expression.
"Seems the millionaire playboy wasn't as trusting as you thought," she said.
"It's your formula!" Myra hissed darkly at the other woman, "It doesn't work like you said it would. First Bruce wouldn't come with me, and then the boy looked sick when I asked him!" Ivy rolled her eyes.
"I don't think it works quite right with children," she agreed reluctantly, "Robin certainly didn't seem to care for me. But it's men I want anyway." Looking almost thoughtful, Poison Ivy reached over to caress a nearby vine that writhed beneath her fingers.
"You said I could have anyone I wanted, and I want the boy," Myra continued, once again rubbing her fingers through his hair. He struggled to pull away, revolted. Poison Ivy considered this.
"I need someone as bait," she agreed, "it was supposed to be the millionaire but I suppose his brat will do. The bat would come anyway, of course, I am enslaving half of Gotham, but this way it will be on my terms. He'll think he's immune; if Bruce Wayne could find nothing in your perfume than I'll bet he couldn't. No, he'll come for the boy. But he really should be tied up in the trap, not in your bed."
"You promised," Myra answered, clutching at Dick possessively, "Besides…what would bring the Bat faster than if he thought I was hurting him." She giggled slightly there, the same sort of giggles she had often given Bruce, and Dick shuddered. Poison Ivy eyed them both with distaste. But she also looked thoughtful. Then she shrugged. She might not have approved what Myra was doing, but nor did she really care.
"Take him to the room we prepared for Wayne, then," she said at last with only a hint of disappointment. The room had been set up with her and Wayne in mind, not Myra and the kid, but she supposed the premise was the same. And this way Ivy would have a clear head when the Bat did come calling. And Batman would be more fun than Wayne anyway. Myra smiled triumphantly and led the way as Dick was carried behind her.
The room in question turned out to be a bedroom. There were restraints on the bed, but Myra didn't seem inclined to use them after Dick was dropped unceremoniously into the middle. She probably was relying on whatever she had drugged him with to keep him from escaping. Unfortunately, Dick was afraid she might be right. His head was clearer than it had been, but his limbs still felt awkward and clumsy. They were left alone.
For a long moment she only stared at him, watching him attempt to pull himself away from her and off the bed. Before he could manage more than to wriggle a bit towards the edge, she approached. He stopped his feeble attempts to escape, his heart beating fast. As she lay down next to him, he felt his breathing increasing; soon all he could concentrate on was breathing and making his lungs work. There didn't seem to be any air. She was too close.
"Shhh," she murmured into his ear, the smell of violets thickly coating over his lungs.
"Stop," he gasped, his hands clawing desperately but uselessly at her approaching fingers. He couldn't stop her. He couldn't stop anything that followed, not even when he was sick all over her. She just used the sheets to wipe up the mess and continued in her sickening pursuits.
After it was over, after he had experienced everything, the pull of the drugs finally won. She lay next to him, holding him, neither of the decent.
It was to this scene that Batman arrived.